We're All Alright
by thecatharsis
Summary: Everybody is a little bit broken here and there. Collection of unrelated oneshots. Chapter 28: Blake enjoys a party by the beach, in her own way.
1. Crossing

**Somewhere in between, Ruby meets somebody very important.**

* * *

Ruby Rose was dying. She was laid down on the snowy forest floor, her blood staining it red. She'd gotten careless. She'd gotten sloppy. She didn't see the Ursa major burst through the trees. She didn't anticipate how quickly it slashed at her, sending her flying to the other side of the of the forest clearing. Ruby collided with a tree and finally fell to earth, bleeding out and in shock. Snuck up on by a Grimm the size of an elephant. That seemed like a very 'Ruby' way to die. Kind of 'Jaune'ish actually, but hey, she could live with that. Not that she would for very long at least.

Ruby could hear her team fighting, taking down the Ursa major, making quick work of it. She felt pride well up in her chest at the thought of them. She'd never seen Yang this angry before. It was kind of frightening. Ruby couldn't think straight, but made an attempt to move, to get up. The pain in her _everywhere_ stopped her. Ruby could only grit her teeth and wait, staring up at the cloudy sky. It was cold.

Ruby's vision started to blur. Her mind was hazy and her thoughts were all over the place. Was this what dying did to you? She thought. Suddenly Ruby was filled with an overwhelming amount of regret. She was going to leave her team behind. She was going to do the one thing she'd promised never to do. Ruby didn't want to go.

And then, Yang came into view, clutching her shoulders and crying out her name repeatedly. Weiss angrily pushed her hysterical sister out of the way and retrieved a green dust crystal from her pouch. And Blake was, as usual, in the background, silent. Ruby couldn't help but smile at the sight of her three most favourite people in the world.

Ruby slowly closed her eyes, suddenly feeling tired. Too tired to care. More tired than she had ever felt in her entire life. The last thing she saw was Weiss dropping her crystal and dropping to her knees.

Ruby Rose was dead. She died in front of her teammates. She would be remembered for all her heroic deeds during her years as a huntress. She was 22 when she died. She was most definitely dead and she wasn't coming back.

So why didn't Ruby feel dead?

Okay, so maybe she didn't know what dead would feel like, but she was almost certain it wasn't this. She was still concious and she could still think. Was this what dead was like? Oh, she must have made a mistake somewhere, this didn't feel like heaven. Where were all the cookies?

"Ruby, honey, time to wake up."

Ruby slowly opened her eyes, mind and vision still hazy. She yawned, stretched and rubbed her eyes, clearing her vision. A soft giggle caught her ears. Ruby looked up to see a woman sitting on the edge of her bed, smiling serenely at her.

"What's so funny?" Ruby mock-frowned, scrunching her nose. But she couldn't stop the wide smile from tugging at her lips. Ruby sat up and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, laughing.

"You're back!" Ruby pulled away. "Didja kill lots of monsters?"

Summer laughed. "I sure did, honey."

"Cool!"

"Come, Ruby. Your sister and friends are outside in the garden. Happy birthday, dear." Summer kissed her daughter on the forehead and ruffled her hair.

"Friends?" Ruby furrowed her brows. Who were 'friends'? She struggled to remember, her mind hazy. In fact, who was her sister? Ruby couldn't remember ever having siblings. She pulled up her knees to her chest and laid her face in her hands. She was forgetting someone. Someone important. It was just out of reach, frustrating her.

"Ruby?"

Ruby looked up at her mother. Something was wrong. This was definitely not the way things were supposed to go.

"Honey, is something wrong?"

No, no, no. She was forgetting something important. Something dear to her. More important than her mother.

"Mom, who's waiting for me?"

"Your sister, Yang. And your friends."

Ruby's eyes widened. Yang. How could she forget Yang?

"Friends?" Ruby quietly asked.

Summer cocked her head to the side. "Your friends, dear. Weiss, Blake and that tall fellow... Jaune and his friends? Don't you remember, Ruby?"

Remember. Remember. Ruby thumped her head. Friends. She remembered! Weiss and Blake and Yang and Jaune and Pyrrha and Nora and Ren. They were her best friends! How did she forget?

"This... isn't right, mom." Ruby threw her covers off and stood up.

Summer smiled serenely. "Well of course not, dear. Don't you remember?"

Ruby opened and closed her mouth several times. Her throat constricted and her stomach was flip-flopping around. She clutched the hem of her skirt. What was she talking about?

"Ruby, you died."

The room faded, leaving only herself and her mother in nothingness. Ruby backed up several steps. Summer changed, too. She wore her white cloak with the hood up, obscuring her face from Ruby. Right now, she looked more ghost than flesh. This was not Summer Rose, Ruby thought. She walked and talked like her, but the thing in front of her wasn't her. It couldn't have been her.

"What's happening?"

Summer reached out and cupped Ruby's face in her hand. It felt unnaturally cold, and Ruby recoiled, tears welling up in her eyes. Summer frowned, bowing her head.

"I'm so sorry, Ruby. I'm so sorry."

Ruby didn't know what to do. She stood, rooted to the spot as a flood of memories released into her mind. She remembered her friends, her time at Beacon. Becoming a huntress. She remembered Weiss blushing as she gave Ruby a kiss under a strategically placed mistletoe one christmas. She remembered buying Blake a cute little gray bow for her birthday. She remembered Yang making fun of her silly obsession of buffing and tuning Crescent Rose after almost every mission.

She remembered the Ursa. She remembered her team standing over her as she faded away.

"I... died."

Tears began to flow freely down Ruby's face.

"Yes, honey."

Ruby looked up at the figure in the white cloak. She remembered Summer Rose. Her life and her death were permanently etched into her memories. How could she forget?

"You're... not my mother. You're not Summer Rose."

Sumner looked on sadly.

"You can't be!"

Ruby took a step forward. She had grown up honouring her memory and now that she was supposedly face to face with her she couldn't help but feel angry and betrayed all over again.

"Honey..."

"You have a lot to answer for!"

Summer didn't respond.

Ruby was _furious._ She didn't want to be here any more. She wanted to go back to her life. Her team and her friends. Her job as a huntress. Weiss. She didn't want to die.

"Where are my friends? I want to go back!"

"There's no going back, Ruby," Summer said softly, her voice almost a whisper, but it seemed to fill every inch of space in the nothingness. Ruby clutched her head, choking back her sobs.

"You left!" she shrieked at the ghost. "You left me when I needed you the most and I always knew you would and you did!"

"Why?! Why did you leave us- leave me?!" Summer was silent.

After a long pause, she spoke. "I'm sorry Ruby. You weren't the only one who needed me. I thought you understood." Another long pause. "I'm sorry."

Ruby dropped to her knees.

"I... need to go back. I need to go back to them. I can't put them through what you put me through. My team mates, my friends... Weiss," Ruby looked up at Summer, desperation seeping through her voice. "I'm not done yet. I need to go back."

Summer moved in closer, a small sigh escaping her lips. "What a strong young woman you've grown up to be," she knelt down to look at Ruby. "Far stronger than I was."

Summer looked up as a faint green glow began to light up the world. She sighed again and smiled at her daughter.

"I love you Ruby, and I am so very proud of you. Never forget that," she placed a hand on Ruby's shoulders. "You're right. You're not done. Your friends seem to think so to."

Ruby perked up, perplexed. The green glow was getting brighter.

"You and your sister... are everything to me. Please believe me when I say that. I would have never parted from the two of you willingly. I love you both."

Summer smiled sadly. "It's time for you to go. Goodbye, Ruby."

The world seemed to fade and grow darker. Ruby reached out to Summer. "Wait-"

Ruby sucked in a deep breath, feeling cold air infiltrate her lungs and body, and feeling unbearable pain. Faintly she could hear a number of voices all speak out at the same time. Her vision was blurry, and she had a hard time even opening her eyes. Through small slits she could make out a familiar face with a pair of striking pale blue eyes stare at her, full of worry.

"Weiss," she breathed, barely any strength left in her. Weiss' eyes overflowed with tears as she smiled.

"Be quiet and save your strength, you dolt. The transport will be here any second," Weiss grabbed Ruby's cold, limp hand. "Stay with us. I'm so glad you're back."

Ruby couldn't help the smile from forming, even if she was lying in a pool of her own blood. Weiss planted a kiss on her forehead and Ruby fell asleep to the sound of jets.

* * *

 **Of course it happened in her head, but why on earth should that mean it's not real?**


	2. A Little Slice of Heaven

**Blake manages to make Yang's mornings better. Yang manages to make Blake's mornings the best.**

* * *

Maybe if the sunlight wasn't so kind to her skin so as to make it glow in the morning, Yang would have been less in love with her girlfriend in the mornings. At least that was what Yang told herself. (the truth was she could never quite figure out any one thing that made her love Blake as much as she did. Blake was simply Blake and that was all the reason Yang needed to love her)

But (un)fortunately, the sun was nothing but benevolent to the Faunus' pale, creamy skin, making it glow as the beams hit it from the slits in between the curtains. It was nothing short of breathtaking, the fact that Yang could wake up to this sight. Blake and her peaceful face as she slumbered, her slightly too large shirt exposing her shoulder, and the hem having ridden up to show her midriff. Yang could do nothing but watch, her fingers twitching to run themselves over her face, ghosting her neck, into her messy jet-black hair, but refraining, lest she wake her girlfriend up. Yang wanted to drink this moment in a little while longer.

It didn't take too long for Blake to stir as she woke up however. Yang slowly and gently planted a kiss on her forehead, like a delicate seed she would sow into the soil. Blake's eyes fluttered open to the sight of the blonde lying on her side with her head propped up on her hand, and a wide smile plastered on her face. She couldn't help her smile either.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

With a smile like that and that hair messed enough like so, Blake really didn't have any choice but to be in love with Yang in the morning. The blonde moved to caress her jaw tenderly as she nuzzled into her palm. Blake couldn't help but purr, causing Yang to giggle and lean in for a gentle kiss. Blake absolutely melted like a stick on butter on the blazing hot saucepan that was Yang Xiao Long kissing her so tenderly in the morning with her hand on her jaw, moving down with her thumb brushing over the hollow of her throat and _hello-_

"God I'm so in love with you," she whispered, breathed as she pulled slightly away from Blake and she felt it more than heard it and it immediately made her chest feel like bursting with pride and her heart twitch in the way only Yang could make it. Blake bumped noses with her girlfriend, smiling a smile only the luckiest people knew of.

"Good morning," she placed one more chaste kiss on Yang's lips and pulled away. Yang couldn't help the small whimper of disappointment as the Faunus got up. Blake rolled her eyes at her.

"We have work to do, Yang," she gently chastised. Yang grabbed her arm and pulled her down, straddling her as she yelped.

"Yes, buuuut..." Yang planted another kiss on her lips. "Wouldn't you rather be doing something else..?" She kissed her again, long and deep. Blake moaned, grabbing her by the neck and flipping her over so Yang was on the bed now. She pulled away and smiled wide, slowly leaning in again.

"Work," she simply said again, patting Yang's cheek and hopping off, walking to the bathroom. Yang sighed.

Blake paused, turning around. "I will take a rain check on that, however."

Yang perked up a bit, smiling even as the door to the bathroom shut. Life was good. Life was pretty good.


	3. Gravity

**Blake, restless with her thoughts, finds her way to the auditorium piano.**

* * *

It took her a while to remember it, but it came to her eventually. Blake shut her eyes and let instinct guide her fingers to dance over the piano keys. She started singing softly, an old tune from and old song, one that was sung to her from an old woman back in her old life. And here she was, in an empty theater, making the old new again. Here she was, keeping something that should have died alive. It rose from it's almost-grave and it brought with it a whole lot of almost-dead memories too.

It was less flashes of coherent memories and more... textures. Textures of her childhood. The rough, the loud, the smooth, the soft. Everything that Blake vowed to leave behind, but still clung onto.

But Blake didn't stop playing even as her hands got a bit shakier and she didn't stop singing even as her voice warbled. In fact, she tried even harder, not letting even memories get the best of her. She'd never let it ever rule her again. She would never give them- him- the satisfaction.

The song hit it's last note, and only then did Blake dared herself to open her eyes, tears pooling. She stared blankly into space, wondering what the entire point of this was. All at once she decided that this was a foolish exercise. She was a huntress, she was to be a protector of humanity. There was no time for-

Footsteps. Blake whipped her head around to find a certain Weiss Schnee at the foot of the stage, a thin robe covering her night gown. She smiled gently at Blake, making her way up the stage.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. Blake looked down at the piano, ghosting her fingers over the edge of the keys. It was a good question. Weiss took a seat beside her on the chair, quiet and patient. Blake paused for several more moments before replying.

"Couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts. You?" she didn't bother even mincing the truth, knowing Weiss would see right through her. Weiss smiled, thin lipped.

"Would you believe it, me too," her voice was gentle, laced with slight worry and... exhaustion. She started running her fingers over the keys, closing her eyes and breathing deep. "What were you thinking about?"

Blake swallowed thickly, memories still ebbing and flowing in her mind. "My old life... what I used to be." She chewed on her lip. "Wondering if I could have done anything to save them. The innocent people."

She turned to Weiss. "You?"

Weiss sighed, resting her head gently on Blake's shoulder. "The company. My father." She offered no more explanations, but Blake figured she understood.

She took Weiss' hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. It was almost natural, how their fingers fit perfectly. The heiress made no objections as Blake squeezed her hand.

"Here's to the broken people, huh?" she said dryly. Weiss smiled, and that was how they sat for a while.

* * *

 **Something always brings me back to you Weiss, and never takes too long.**

 **I'd like to imagine the song is Gravity by Sara Bareillis.**


	4. Suddenly I'm Hit

**Weiss learns the meaning of a very special word**

* * *

 _Lonely_.

The word slipped out of her mouth, an effort of voice and tongue. A rise and fall and fall and fall and fall. Weiss wondered if she sounded as pathetic as she felt. Probably. But then again, it wasn't like there was anybody around to tell her. The vast expanse of the young Schnee's room only seemed to accentuate her point. The word 'lonely' seemed to exist and originate from every nook and cranny of the large, white, neat room. And here Weiss stood in the middle of it all. The victim and the source. She held her tiny frame in a way she only imagined somebody else would, if only she were not so unlucky.

 _Lonely_.

She said it again, and again the room almost echoed it back to her. This wasn't anything new to her, so Weiss wondered why her chest was so hollow today. Maybe it was the word that started it. Like a curse, damning her to this... realization. Or maybe it was the realization that caused the word to be born. More likely it was one and the same, the word like a curse and the pain like an old wound, freshly opened.

Suddenly the world seemed a bit larger than it did before. Or maybe Weiss was a bit smaller than she remembered. Suddenly Weiss couldn't bear it any second longer. Any of it. The training, the grooming, the strict regime, the constant threat of disappointing her father looming over her head like an axe dangling, held only by a particularly thin string. The company, the inheritance, the want- the need- for something else. Something more. _Something._

Weiss didn't know it yet, but this was a turning point in her life. This was the moment that defined the rest of her life. The heiress turned huntress. Weiss clenched her fists tight, refusing to let her tears fall even as her body let out involuntary sobs and hiccoughs. She was Weiss Schnee. Proud member of the Schnee family. The Schnee legacy. She was proud and elegant and graceful and she would not let these tears pour. Weiss Schnee.

She was Weiss Schnee, a lonely child who was lacking in love. A blank canvas that was told that white was the most beautiful colour, and more importantly, the only colour that mattered. And all at once Weiss Schnee collapsed, like a tower with it's foundations being destroyed slowly, one by one. Eventually it would reach a breaking point, toppling over with its own weight. She crumpled like paper in a fire, curling in on herself, tears silently rolling down the snow white skin of her cheeks as she tried her best to suppress the sharp gasps and choked sobs that left her. Too much. It was altogether too much for a child of the tender age of 10. (Eventually Weiss would measure her life in 'too much' or 'not enough'. More often than not, she found 'not enough' hurt more than 'too much'.)

And nobody came. Nobody heard the cries of a child, tired and lonely. Nobody to comfort the youngest Schnee. It was only Weiss, and the mountain to climb to sit on the throne of the terrifying Schnee Dust Company. The crown entirely too heavy to rest atop the head of one as young and innocent as her, yet was destined for her. It made her nauseous and all the more alone. Less a crown and more a cage. Less a destiny and more a prison.

Eventually Weiss stopped. Her guarded dam of thoughts had finished flooding the town, the violent gushing of water had ceased, and all that was left was desolation and calmness. Nothing was the same, everything was different. But the sun was still up, the grass still green, the sky still blue and the waters had gone back to it's calm state. Weiss unfolded, sniffling still. She got up with the weariness of somebody far older than she, slowly smoothing out her elegant dress. Her face was an even mask of neutrality even if her tear tracks and puffy eyes betrayed her. Calmly, Weiss strode over to her bathroom, cleaning the tear tracks, wiping her eyes.

She looked at the pale girl staring back at her in the mirror and wondered if she looked as lonely as she felt. Maybe anybody else who saw her would only see the prim, poised and proper Schnee heiress she was supposed to be, and not the broken little girl she was.

Lonely.

That would change, she solemnly and silently vowed.

* * *

 **Let's just assume Winter doesn't exist here...**

 **Fun fact: I'm too lazy to write something long form, so I instead chose to do a lot of little oneshots.**

 **Fun fact #2: Weiss' character design in the show is my favourite.**

 **Fun fact #3: You look really good today, did you do something to your hair? I absolutely love it.**


	5. Be the Girl You Love

**Weiss unlearns the meaning of a very special word.**

* * *

It did change. Weiss changed. Slowly but surely, with the help of her teammates. Her friends. Weiss Schnee's prim and proper mask, her pig-headed stubbornness and her icy exterior, defence mechanisms, slowly dissolved. Weiss found herself cracking more jokes, more witty retorts. She found herself smiling more. She found herself.

Weiss realized this one Sunday afternoon in their dorm, as she was alone working on her homework. The air was still and quiet and she realized that, sans the makeshift (very makeshift) bunk beds and smaller room, it was almost like she was back in Schee Manor again. (It didn't surprise her much when she suddenly stopped referring to that place as 'home' in her mind. It was just Schnee Manor now, where she grew up, where her father lived. Schnee Manor like how everyone else would say it, so disconnected from the real world it might as well have been fake.)

Weiss put her pen down slowly, shifting to look at the rest of the room, which had more personality squeezed into it per square meter than the whole of Schnee Manor. The strewn about clothes, the odd shotgun shell or sniper bullet littering parts of the room, the bookshelves dense with books. Storybooks. Romance and Young Adult Fiction and Mystery and Horror, not like the books in the library in the manor. Even the smell. The fact that it smelled, as opposed to her old room, which was clean and sterile and cold. It smelled of nothing. Of emptiness and loneliness.

Weiss realized, this place felt more like home than anywhere else in the world. It was almost downright terrifying but at the same time unbearably exciting. Weiss smiled a little, drinking in all the sights of the room. When- if she had to return to Schnee Manor, and the world of inheriting the company...

The door slammed open, cutting the heiress' thoughts short. An out of breath and sweaty looking Ruby Rose leaned on her knees at the entrance.

"Weiss!" Ruby exclaimed in between gasps of air. "H-help me!" (gasp) "Y-Yan-"

The young leader was suddenly expelled from the entrance of the doorway into the actual room, tackled by a fierce looking blonde brawler. Ruby squeaked in the only Ruby could as maniacal laughter started. Weiss didn't even have time to react.

"I got you, little Rose!" Yang screamed in a terrible Mexican accent. "Prepare to feel the fury of Los Blancos Furios!"

Ruby started screaming as Yang sat on her and started pinning her leg, all the while screeching an ungodly luchadore-esque war cry. Somewhere in between, both of the girls' screams were slowly transitioning to giggles.

"What in the world is going on here?!" Weiss stood up from her chair, facing the two sisters. "Yang, let Ruby go this instant!"

Yang snarled at her. "Nobody shall escape the wrath of Los Blancos Furios!" she screeched another war cry.

"Say Uncle Qrow!"

Ruby pounded on the carpet floor, giggling as she trashed under the weight of her sister. "Never!"

"Then so be it!" Yang pinned her sister with more weight, crushing Ruby, who was laughing even harder.

Weiss slapped a palm to her forehead, sighing explosively.

Eventually Ruby tapped out, wheezing "Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow!" Satisfied, Yang stood up, making an 'I'm-watching-you' gesture to her prone sister, the both of them smiling all the while.

It was then that Blake made her entrance into the room, a book tucked under her arm and an eyebrow cocked at the scene in front of her. Her smile, much like everything else about her, was quiet and subtle. She shook her head and took her place on her bed, burying herself in her book.

Weiss looked at her teammates, the people she'd grown so close to over the course of her stay at Beacon, realizing what exactly made it all so different. Why she could stand doing her work alone in the room like she did back in the manor. It was because she knew she'd never be alone. Not while she was a part of team RWBY. For the first time in her life, Weiss could say the word 'lonely' and not have it burst apart somewhere in her chest and settle down like a heavy storm cloud over her head.

Here it was. Home. Actual home. The makeshift bunks and poster on the wall. The mess of clothes and the pile of books. Ruby, Blake and Yang.

Ruby took notice of Weiss' uncharacteristic silence over the whole ordeal, her giggling fits having died off.

"Uh, Weiss?" she called out, still prone on the floor. Weiss was snapped out of her thoughts as she looked at Ruby, and her dreamy expression was immediately replaced with one of annoyance. Ruby wondered what her maximum limit of furrowing was for her eyebrows, having somewhat regretted snapping Weiss out of her daydream.

"Get up Ruby, you'll wrinkle your skirt! You promised you'd let me help you finish Professor Oobleck's assignment. Honestly I don't understand why you always leave these things to the last minute," the young Schnee folded her arms at her leader, who got up and smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt out, sloppily and as quickly as she could. Weiss tutted.

"Aw come on, it's like 4! Can't we leave it for later in the evening?" Ruby groaned, hunching over.

"No."

"But Weiiiiisssss-"

"Sit down, Ruby. It would reflect poorly on all of us if our leader got the worst grades out of all of us." Ruby looked to her other teammates for help and received almost identical blank stares and shrugs in response. She groaned more in response, dragging her feet over to the desk beside Weiss and laying her head down in defeat.

Yes, Weiss could say without a doubt this was home for her.

* * *

 **Did I mention how much I like Weiss?**


	6. A Murder Of

**Qrow gets a surprise visit from somebody he thought missing, and somebody he didn't know existed.**

* * *

Qrow took another swig of the bottle, the liquid almost burning his throat. He barely even felt it, numb to the discomfort. In fact, his goal was to numb himself from a different sort of pain. The kind he couldn't hit or yell at. The kind where your sister had been missing for the last 9 months. The kind where she appears at your doorstep with a baby and a letter and leaves before you can ask any questions, without even saying goodbye.

Qrow had placed the sleeping bundle on a mattress on the floor, and the letter that he had a strong inkling wasn't meant for him on the coffee table and called Taiyang and Summer, taking to drinking while waiting for them to arrive. He hadn't told them anything specific, and was entirely not looking forward to their reactions finding out about this. The baby stirred, catching his attention. Qrow put the bottle down on the table, going over to him. Or her. He hadn't really checked. He hadn't decided if he cared or not. In fact, Qrow didn't know how to feel about anything, hence the open bottle of liqour.

He kneeled down next to it, observing it as it stirred. It had a tuft of yellow hair on it's head, which confirmed his suspicions, and pale skin. It opened it's eyes as it yawned and Qrow caught a glimpse of it's eyes. It's lilac eyes. It was mesmerizing. The baby looked at Qrow, silent and curious. Having been with it's mother for the past few months and little other people, it was very surprised to see another person that wasn't a dark-haired woman with blood red eyes.

Except this newcomer's eyes were the same colour. The baby was delighted to see that, gurgling. Qrow pursed his lips at the baby.

"Hello," he mumbled at it, slurring his words a bit. The baby seemed to find his gravelly voice amusing, smiling and gurgling some more. Qrow reached down, tracing a finger over it's cheek. It reached up, grabbing his finger and kicking some more. Suddenly the baby's happy gurgling turned into hiccups and eventually cries. The baby started wailing an ear piercing shriek, distressed now. Qrow winced, shushing the baby. It didn't work.

"Crap. Okay, okay, let's stop crying now," Qrow said, imitating what he thought a soothing voice sounded like. The baby opened it's eyes momentarily, and suddenly lilac eyes turned blood red, just like his. Just like hers. Qrow was dumbfounded.

Then the baby screwed it's eyes shut again and began crying some more. Qrow huffed, deciding to pick it up. Silently he cursed his Raven for dumping this on him. He hadn't figured he would be a father any time soon! He would make a terrible father, the numerous bottles of liquor scattered around his house was proof of that.

"Okay little baby- wait." Qrow made a quick check.

"Okay. Girl."

The baby's cries lessened a bit as he rocked her around a bit. The blood red hue of her eyes faded back to lilac, even as she continued sniffing. Qrow continued walking around, rocking it, praying to god it went back to sleep.

"So I guess I'm your Uncle Qrow, girly," he said softly. She looked at him intently.

"I'll be honest," he laughed softly, sitting down on the sofa. "I really didn't expect this. Raven... your mom. I didn't know she was... with you."

He sighed again. "And with your dad... well that part I got. Oh, he's going to freak out. He's not going to take this very well at all." She looked at him almost quizzically.

"He's a good guy, that. I know he is. He'll take real good care of you," Qrow looked at the baby directly now.

"I'm sorry... but welcome. Welcome to your family, little baby."

It was then the doorbell rang, and a female voice called out.

"Qrow? We're here!"

Qrow stood up with the little bundle, sighing again.

"Let's make some introductions, shall we?"

Qrow was unsurprised to see Summer and Taiyang's incredulous looks when he greeted them at the door carrying a baby. The both of them were silent, brows raised. Qrow looked at them, and back at the baby, mouth flopping open and shut. Eventually he just shook his head, motioning them to follow him into the living room. Summer shut the door behind her.

"Qrow," Taiyang began. "What's all this about? When you said this was really important, I really didn't expect... this."

Summer came up to look at the baby. "Is he yours, Qrow?"

"She," Qrow corrected. "And... no. She's your, Tai."

"Excuse me?"

He strode over to his team mate, gently transferring the baby into his arms. He was absolutely dumbstruck and lost for words. Qrow grabbed the other man's shoulder.

"Raven... came here. Barely even get to say hello before she dumped her on me and left," Qrow sighed for the thousandth time that night. "Look at her hair, Tai. Raven's been gone for the better part of this year, and she comes back with her. I'll let you connect the dots."

Tears had now begun to form in both Taiyang and Summer's eyes. Qrow picked up the white envelope on his coffee table, the one Raven had left.

"It's meant for you," he said, holding it out. Taiyang looked up at him, eyes shimmering and his jaw slack. He looked at the letter, then to the baby, his expression lost. Qrow sympathized with him. It was a lot to take in. He'd remember to offer him a swig of his strong stuff later.

Summer mercifully took the baby from Taiyang, cooing at it even as tears trailed down her cheeks. Taiyang slowly took the letter from Qrow's hand, sitting down on the sofa as he opened it up.

Qrow waited patiently for Taiyang to read it, checking on the baby in Summer's arms. It was silent, observing the new people that had come in. Maybe it had sensed the sudden change in mood.

Eventually Taiyang stopped reading the letter, burying his head in his hands. Then, he started sobbing. Tears fell onto the carpet as Taiyang let his grief out. Qrow placed a hand on his shoulder and he eventually receded. He looked up at his team mates, face red and eyes puffy. He locked his eyes on the baby, standing up and taking it from Summer, who'd been silent throughout the whole ordeal.

"Yang," Taiyang said. Qrow quirked a brow at him. Taiyang looked at him, taking in a deep breath. "That's her name. Yang Xiao Long. Raven- she named her."

He looked back to the baby.

"Hi, Yang. I'm your daddy."

The baby gurgled a bit, almost understanding. The blonde man was somehow comforting to her, the same way the black-haired woman was.

"I'm going to take very good care of you, okay? You don't know me yet, but I love you very, very much, Yang Xiao Long."


	7. And There She Is

**Ruby gets a bit more than she bargained for when Weiss invites her out to one of the Schnee Dust Company's corporate galas, not that she's complaining.**

* * *

Sometimes, Ruby thought Weiss was like the sun. The great big burning hot ball of gas that her world revolved around. The source of all life, and very, very dangerous. Recommended to not look directly into it, or stay out too long in it's presence, lest you cook and burn up, or maybe even catch fire, who knows?!

Certainly not Ruby, poor Ruby who was unfortunate enough to have gotten a glimpse of Weiss and her dress and more specifically Weiss _in_ her dress and was now subsequently blind. Or maybe turned to stone. More likely a deadly combination of the two. A sunny Medusa. She should have figured her partner's true semblance earlier.

The moment Weiss walked into the ballroom, the one filled with the old men in stuffy suits and slender women in their dresses of sequins, all eyes were on her. Naturally, it being a Schnee hosted corporate gala, and Weiss being a Schnee, everybody would take notice of her. But that wasn't how Ruby meant it. She saw the way the men's gazed lingered, she saw the impreciptible little tics of the women's mouths and brows. A quirk of the mouth that-a-way for a fraction of a second, displeased at this young woman stealing attention away from them.

Ruby felt like someone had hit her on the head, rendering her fine motor skills inoperable, and her conscious stream of thoughts coming to a screeching halt. All her brain could do was just...

"Wow."

Wow. Wow. Wow wow wow.

Weiss walked in Ruby's direction, ever elegant, ever poised, everything everybody expected of a Schnee. Her heels click-clacked against the fine marble floor, audible even as the low murmurings of the party continued, and another fine piece of classical music was played by the band. Her polite smile turned a bit more genuine as she approached the younger girl.

Until she noticed Ruby's blank face, her jaw hanging open. Weiss quirked a brow, cocking her hip.

"Ruby?" she said softly. "Is everything... alright?"

Ruby started at the mention of her name, suddenly becoming acutely aware of Weiss' presence. And the presence of her dress and the dips to where the dress became not a dress and the cock of her hips and the jut of her clavicle. Her face heated up as she cleared her throat.

"Weiss! You look... amazing!" she coughed out. Weiss looked away, smiling.

"Thank you Ruby, you don't look so bad yourself."

Ruby waved her off. "No, no. Really. You look... wow. You look like how the word 'gorgeous' would feel like."

Weiss started blushing at that, surprised with Ruby's eloquence.

"I want to kiss you."

Weiss looked at her. She frowned suddenly, looking around to see if anybody had heard her.

"Ruby, we talked about this," she said in a hushed tone.

Ruby huffed a short breath. "That was before you came in with your- your face and your hair and that magic dress!" she replied, equally hushed, if not squeaking.

Ruby leaned in close. Weiss bit her lip and furrowed her brow, but didn't stop her advances, even as she snaked an arm around her waist and brushed past her neck.

"I'm going to kiss you now, and I really don't care who sees," Ruby breathed.

"Okay."

So fireworks exploded over Schnee Manor that day. Weiss had never imagined she could ever feel happiness like this in a place so devoid of happiness like Schnee Manor. But here was Ruby. Here was she. And all at once everything felt just alright.


	8. A Very Qrow Christmas

**Qrow celebrates Christmas with his family.**

* * *

"Qrow!"

"Merry Christmas Summer," Qrow smiled, hugging his team mate as she laughed at his red and white themed outfit, and the sack he hoisted over his shoulder.

"What, no big bushy white beard?" she shut the door as he entered their home. Qrow scratched at his growing stubble.

"Give me a few more years, sure it'll catch up to me."

Summer stuck her tongue out at him. "Said the baby of the team."

Qrow rolled his eyes, setting the sack down on the coffee table. "Where are the kid-"

His sentence was cut off by a pair of sentient lumps of screams jumping on him. Qrow laughed even as his balance was thrown off by his nieces and their shrill chorus of 'Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow, Uncle Qrow!'. He regained his balance, supporting the two rambunctous kids clambering on him. He lifted his left arm with a certain dark haired, silver-eyed 2 year old on it, looking incredulously at her.

"Hi!" Qrow quirked an eyebrow at her before a curtain of sunny, yellow hair, framing a small lilac-eyed girl missing her two front teeth obscured his vision.

"Hi Uncle Qrow!"

Qrow couldn't help the small quirk of his lips, even as he tried to look disinterested, reaching behind to pick Yang up off his back by the scruff of her shirt. She giggled as Qrow held his nieces at arm's length.

"You know, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that," he flashed a toothy grin. "People like me, we're _dangerous._ Yeah, you never know when I'll just up and turn into **The Crush Monster**."

His two nieces gasped, familiar with the aformentioned monster. Both of them leaped off their Uncle, Ruby stumbling a bit. Yang took her by her tiny hand.

"Ruby, we gotta go!" Yang screamed. The two sisters ran out of the living room and up the stairs, Yang leading her younger sister.

Qrow smiled at Summer, who rolled her eyes back, even as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Dinner's ready in 20 minutes. Make sure they don't get too dirty. Tai should be back any minute," she called out to Qrow as she headed into the kitchen. Qrow noisily bounded up the stairs, bellowing Crush Monster cries, to which his nieces shrieked in fear of.

Growing up, Qrow never did have many traditions with his family. Unless you could count his father getting drunk and hitting him and Raven around a tradition. Even then, if wasn't really a Christmas tradition, but more of an all-year-round type of deal.

So when Qrow plopped his nieces, still hyper from his chasing them around and crushing them with his hugs, into their seats at the dinner table before sitting down himself, with the delicious spread of food prepared, and his teammates seated, like every year for the past 4 years, he found himself happy. He found that it was a tradition now, to have dinner with his family.

Qrow looked around the table. He was related by blood only to Yang, but everybody at the table really was family. And he really couldn't have asked for a better one. Granted his basis of comparison was an abusive drunkard, and a sister long gone.

Summer noticed Qrow's far-off look. "Are you okay, Qrow?"

Qrow stared at her, then to Taiyang. Then to his nieces. And he decided to give a straight answer this time.

"This... is nice," he smiled a little bit.

Summer smiled at him warmly, as did Taiyang. Both were well aware of his childhood.

"Merry Christmas, Qrow," Taiyang sipped his glass of water.

Qrow huffed a short breath of laughter. "And to you... family." He pulled out his flask and took a swig.

After dinner, he gave out the gifts he'd brought. A little metal Rose for Summer, (it would eventually become Ruby's.) new clothes, a scarf, and a multitude of brushes and hair products for Yang, a little toy sniper for Ruby, and books for Taiyang. This, naturally, came with more little toys and books for his nieces (Summer would later claim that Qrow would spoil them too much. Qrow would never stop this tradition.)

Later, when Qrow realized that that was the last Christmas he'd ever spend with Summer, he would wish that he had helped her prepare the dinner. He would wish he could have helped his nieces prepare. But Qrow knew better than anybody that when somebody you love leaves very suddenly, nothing in the world could help prepare you for it.


	9. It's a Bad Idea, Me and You

**Blake and Jaune somehow find themselves alone together on the roof.**

* * *

It was a bad idea.

It was _so bad._

Blake was with Sun, and Jaune had Pyrrha. By all accounts, it was impossible. At the very least very, extremely improbable. And inappropriate. It was a bad, bad, bad idea. But then Jaune kissed her again and it felt like an explosion. And she kissed him back and goodness if it was such a bad idea why did it feel _so_ -

Jaune trailed his fingers down her spine, coming to rest on her lower back. Blake shivered and deepened the kiss.

 _So fucking good._

Jaune was the one to pull away first, regaining his senses. Blake couldn't help the pang of disappointment that hit her as she felt the loss of his lips against hers, and his hands snaked away. He looked at her and she looked at him and the both of them were silent.

"This is a bad idea," Jaune finally said, his voice husky and whispered. Blake swallowed, looking around the empty rooftop. Looking at anywhere but Jaune. Jaune Arc, who was honestly the last person she was expecting to kiss her like fire, to make her senses tingle and excite her the way he did. But he did. And it was so good. But, it was-

"It's a bad idea," Blake thoroughly agreed, leaning in to kiss him again. If Jaune had been aware he would have noticed that her actions directly contradicted her words. But Blake was nipping his botton lip and her nails were digging into the base of his skull so his mind suddenly wasn't in the mood for thinking straight. Jaune's hands returned to their positions on the small of her back. He thought he heard her humming, in a tone of something he felt like was contentment, or if he was thinking harder, _excitement_.

"Bad idea," he breathed when they pulled away for air.

"Terrible," Blake agreed again, and again dived in to kiss him.

"You have a boyfriend," Jaune pulled away to say.

"You have a girlfriend," Blake replied.

And they kissed again.

Slowly, Jaune found that they were going over to the wall of the entrance to the roof. Blake's back hit the concrete, and suddenly she found this position way better than the other one. The way Jaune was bearing over her, and the way she was completely vulnerable here.

Then Jaune stopped, pulling away to look into Blake's eyes.

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know," Blake replied truthfully. "It's a pretty bad idea, but..."

She took one gloved hand and held the palm against her heart, even as he blushed. She hoped her understood. She hoped he got that it was him that was making her heart beat wildly like that.

Jaune's eyes widened, and she figured he understood. He did the same with her, though his hand was considerably shakier. His heart was beating in tandem with hers, both wild and out of control.

And then they both kissed again. It was a bad idea.

But it was a pretty good bad idea.


	10. Qrow Branwen's Infinite Sadness

**Qrow sneaks onto General Ironwood's ship to find something important to him**

* * *

Qrow, strictly speaking, wasn't allowed onto Ironwood's ship. Well, the old General hadn't expressly forbidden him from entering the ship, but he doubted he would approve of Qrow stowing away on the cargo transport and sneaking onto the ship. Honestly, Qrow was surprised he had made it so far. It seemed Ironwood didn't put so much emphasis on security on his ship; he probably wasn't expecting trouble in Beacon. Which, again, Qrow thought was a dumb thing to do. Oh well. It suited him, so the greying huntsmen couldn't complain too much.

Qrow had a plan, sneaking onto the ship. But, stalking the halls silently, he couldn't remember for the life of him what it was exactly. He had a goal in mind, of course, which in of itself was _terrible_ , but... Well, he was sure it would be worth it. Worth something, at least.

So, here Qrow was, walking down a hallway with his hands in his pockets, looking left and right for any sign or clue that would lead him towards his prize. It was important. It was very important, to both Qrow and Ironwood. One moreso than the other. So where would James Ironwood keep something important?

Somewhere important, Qrow concluded.

So where was the most important place on this ship to the General?

The war room. In fact, Qrow had an inkling that's exactly where his prize found itself, someway or another. He wrinkled his nose as he entered the mess hall. Scores of soldiers milled about, sitting on benches, eating and chatting. That would explain the lack of guards about. It was lunch.

Not that he would have a problem with the soldiers in the ship. Unless Ironwood had given his men express orders that Qrow was not to be on the ship, he could just easily lie and say he had a meeting with the General. Nobody would be any the wiser.

In fact, Qrow decided to employ this tactic right then. He walked up to a bench, hands still in his pockets, casual as you please. The soldiers looked up at him, almost in awe. Qrow smiled slightly. He knew the ways of Atlas. These kids were probably conscripted into the military at birth. The closest thing they would have to celebrities would be hunstmen like him. Qrow could use this to his advantage.

He hoped his prize wouldn't wait too long.

"Hey, fellas. Any of you know the way up to the war room?"

Silence met him. Strict Altlasian training had apparently not covered being star struck. He swore he could almost see stars in one of their eyes. Qrow scratched his stubble, still waiting.

Finally one of them, a doe eyed man with long black hair that just brushed his shoulders, spoke. "Y-yeah!" his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat as a bright red blush overtook his cheeks. Qrow almost laughed out loud. "I can take you there!" He stood up, grabbing his helmet. His friends just looked on, definitely in awe. This guy was certainly going to be Mr. Popular later.

The soldier led Qrow out the door, and down some hallways.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, sir," the soldier started, timidly. "I'm a huge fan of yours."

Qrow quirked an eyebrow at him as they rounded another corner. "That so?"

"Yeah! We're all big fans of your work! That time a few years back, when you took out that rogue huntsman," his voice grew in pitch. "That was awesome!"

Qrow smiled slightly. The kid must have been green as grass. He liked him, feverent fanboyism aside. Finally, they arrived at the elevator. Qrow entered, and looked at the kid.

"Thanks, kid," he winked. He could hear faint squeals as the elevator ascended. It stopped, and the metal doors slid open to reveal a large white room.

"General Ironwood, sir-"

Qrow smiled.

"Just me, Winter."

Winter Schnee frowned, her eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here, Qrow?" she asked, venom and ice dripping from her words. Qrow stepped out of the elevator, hands still in his pockets. After all, she was putting up an act, why wouldn't he? Winter locked eyes with him as he rounded the table she stood beside, stopping opposite her. She shot icy daggers with her glare and Qrow honestly _relished_ in it.

He had never known the cold to be so electrifying, but here she was. And they'd only just started.

"I thought I'd take a tour of ol' Jimmy's ship," he shrugged. "Ain't bad. Think I've even got a few fans here."

Winter sighed. "Get back to Beacon, _Qrow_."

Qrow leaned on the table. "Drop the act, _Winter_."

Winter leaned on the table too, getting close to Qrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about, and I'd suggest you get off this ship before General Ironwood catches wind of this little stowaway."

Qrow leaned in closer. "I came here to see you, Winter," he said softly. Winter was taken aback. That was unexpected.

Not the fact that he snuck onto her boss' ship to see her, but the fact that he openly admitted it. If Winter was honest, she knew their little act was just that: an act, but she didn't expect it to break down to this so quickly. Usually it involved more venom, more banter, and... _other stuff_. Angry, hateful, amazing, other stuff.

Winter relaxed her body as Qrow tensed his.

" _Qrow_ ," she said, in a tone of voice Qrow had grown to recognize as 'let-you-down-easy'. "You know we can't."

"I know lots of things, Winter." he replied, blood-red eyes never leaving pale blue. "I know we can't. What I don't know is why not."

"Why won't you just give it up, Qrow?" Winter sighed again.

"Because I haven't felt the way I do with you since Summer was alive," he said, barely a whisper.

Winter swallowed hard. She could tell him, right then and there, that nobody had ever made her feel the way he did either. But she couldn't.

Winter couldn't, because she was a Specialist under the Atlasian military, which required her to be anywhere at any given time, to perform dangerous tasks. Winter couldn't, because she was a Schnee, and her father would disown her. Winter couldn't because...

Because she was afraid.

The word 'Love' could only apply to one person in her life: Weiss. She couldn't afford to let another in. The thought terrified her. The thought chilled her to the bone.

"Get out, Qrow," Winter spoke. Qrow could have sworn he saw something like tears in her eyes. But she blinked and it was gone. Qrow pulled away from the distance between the two. Winter was final in her decision. She always was. Qrow rounded the table, stopping right beside her. Slowly, he brushed a hand against hers. It was intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating. Better than any booze money could buy. But not his. Not for Qrow.

He stopped, pulling away again before he did something stupid. He entered the elevator, and got one last look at the older Schnee sister before the door closed. Maybe for good this time.


	11. Cuffed

**Weiss finds herself in a terrible situation with Ruby**

* * *

Today had been a very eventful day, and Weiss wasn't very sure how she'd gotten to this point.

Okay, that was a lie. She could recall with painful detail the exact sequence of events that led her to where she was. Which was currently handcuffed to Ruby Rose, around a very, _very_ strong heater. It wasn't the most dignified of positions to be found in.

"So... this is a thing."

Really, Weiss had had better days.

Ruby pulled against the heater again, grunting with effort. Weiss sighed, for the millionth time.

Truly it was Weiss' lapse in judgement. The police officer was clearly new- she didn't want to do anything to scare him, or cause him to call backup or anything! They'd just been chasing a lead on a developing White Fang situation, and maybe they could have explained the situation better. But their lead was getting away, and they certainly could have outrun the police officer, but he would have reported it and they would be in enough trouble if anybody found out they were sneaking out of Beacon at night, let alone with an APB on them.

One thing led to another, so here they were, handcuffed to each other around a heater, alone, without any of their stuff. Who knew cooperating with an officer could lead to this?

"This is ridiculous!" Ruby wiggled her cuffed hand, making Weiss' hand jerk about uncomfortable. Weiss scowled, deeper than she already was.

"Oh no, seems like a perfectly reasonable situation to be in to me," Weiss didn't bother to disguise her seething sarcasm. Ruby pulled against the bars again.

"It's not!"

Weiss sighed again, and Ruby stopped pulling to give a little 'oh'. "That was you being facetious wasn't it?"

Weiss just glared at her, even as Ruby mentally high-fived herself for getting a big word right on her first try.

"Right. Just- help me with this," Ruby pulled at the heater again. Weiss rolled her eyes but conceded. Might as well give it a shot.

To nobody's surprise but Ruby's, the combined efforts of two of the smallest girls in Beacon academy pulling at a tightly bolted down space heater wasn't enough to do anything to it. Weiss gave up, sitting down to lean against the heater instead.

"This is useless We should just wait. Somebody's bound to come by eventually."

Ruby gave another hearty tug. "Come on! Can't you like use your semblance to freeze this thing, and we can shatter it or something?"

Weiss furrowed her brows, confusion etched into her features. "How exactly would I freeze this with my semblance?"

Ruby paused, opening and closing her mouth several times. "Because you're all ice- and you- you stab the ground with your sword and it goes all woosh and... ice comes out?"

Weiss stared at her teammate in disbelief. Almost a full year had gone by, did Ruby really not know what her semblance was? "Glyphs, you dolt!"

Ruby blinked.

"I summon glyphs," Weiss held her hand out, summoning a small one in the palm of her hand. "That's my semblance! How on Earth do you not know this?!"

Ruby laughed nervously, darting her eyes to look at anywhere but Weiss Schnee. "Of course I knew that," another exaggerated chuckle. "I mean, duh! Yeah. Glyphs. Of course."

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. "The ice comes from dust crystals. Which are in my rapier," she further clarified, knowing just how lost Ruby was. Ruby 'oh'd and nodded in understanding now. She sat back up and began tugging again at the grate after a long silence.

"Well, can you use your glyphs to help us get out of here?"

Weiss rested her chin in her free palm. "That's not how my glyphs work. Why don't you use your speed to help get us free?"

Ruby balked. "How would I do that?"

"Vibrate your hand so fast that the molecules pass through the molecules of the handcuff," Weiss shrugged. Ruby furrowed her brows. That sounded really familiar...

She snapped her fingers, pointing an accusatory finger at the Schnee. "You _did_ read my X-Ray and Vav comics!"

Weiss cheeks tinged a slight shade of pink, and she remained silent. Ruby let out a little 'hah!'.

In Weiss' defense, they were not bad reading material for sleepless nights.

Ruby finally gave up, sitting down in the same position as Weiss.

"Looks like we're in here for the long haul, Weiss."

"Yep."

"... Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

"No, Ruby. I never wonder why we're here."

"Weiss."

"Yes, Ruby?"

"I have to pee."

Weiss sighed.


	12. Thunderstruck

**Nora's revelation of her semblance comes as a bit of a... shock.**

* * *

Ren screamed.

He rarely ever screamed.

But when he saw Nora about to stick that fork into that outlet, he screamed very loudly. Ren had heard the grown ups say to not do _specifically that_. It would hurt! And there Nora was, sticking it in there anyway! Ren ran to her, faster than he had ever run before.

Nora, being as she was at the tender age of 7, didn't know any of this of course. She'd just found a rusty fork in the garbage, and it looked like some of the toys the grown-ups use, slotting one thing into another. If she'd any idea what would happen- well Nora, being as she was in her general Nora-ness, would probably do it anyway.

Ren wasn't fast enough. In went the fork, and sparks flew. He stopped short, screaming louder as he saw his friend convulsing, her grip on the fork still tight. The lights in the house grew dim, and blue sparks illuminated the hallway. He stared, wide-eyed. He was sure his friend was hurt. She kept twitching and tensing-

And glowing.

Nora had let go of the fork now, and she was on the floor. Blue sparks danced along her body, through her veins, making her glow a bright blue. Nora sat up, and looked at a gaping Ren with a wide, dopey smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled, dancing with electricity.

Ren ran over, coming to a crouch in front of his friend. He was equal parts relieved and terrified at what was happening.

"Nora! You're okay!"

Nora smiled wider, bringing her hands in front of her face and wiggling her fingertips. "I feel... tingly!" she giggled. Ren was very, very confused. Didn't the grown-ups say that this would hurt? Nora looked like she had the time of her life! Were they lying to him?

At that moment, Ms. Elyse came barreling down the hallway, at the two children.

"Ohmigosh, are you two okay?" she bent down and patted Ren down, checking for any signs of injury. Ren nodded and, satisfied that she found nothing wrong, she turned to Nora.

Glowing, sparking Nora.

"N-Nora?"

"Yeah Ms. Elyse!" Nora stood up now. She looked like she wanted to... move. Her muscles tense and twitched. She was itching to do... something.

And Nora, being Nora, did the first thing that came to mind. She jumped and slammed down onto the floor.

The floor broke. Nora crashed down into the living room with an explosive crash. Both Ren and Ms. Elyse looked on in shock.

From then onwards, not a lot of foster homes wanted her. But that was okay. She and Ren always found their way back to each other. Ms. Elyse was kind enough to recommend her to Signal Academy, having prior contacts there. Ren, of course, followed. The Orphanage was Ren and Nora's home mostly, until the both of them found respite in Beacon.

And it all worked out for Nora- she got to stick forks and stuff into outlets and toasters into bathtubs mostly anytime she wanted and it would be okay.


	13. Not Quite Superman

**Qrow stops Amber's attackers, but she's still hurt. Qrow feels responsible.**

* * *

Heroes only have to fuck up _once_. One slip. One mistake. Something he misses, something he doesn't notices, and the whole city goes kablooie. No more beautiful city. The bad guys win, and the good guys lose. The villains- they keep coming. They don't stop. They each get their chance. Again and again and again to destroy, to maim, to hurt. The Hero has to bat a thousand. Hit a home run every time. He doesn't have to opportunity to be careless. To mess up.

Qrow isn't quite a hero, but when he sees Amber, with her face scarred and blackened, the tissue around her cheeks puckering up and shriveling and her breaths coming in ragged and pained, he feels like he fucked it up. He holds her head in his hands and he curses quietly.

They'd gotten to her. Whoever they were. Using whatever it is they were using. They were draining her. Her powers. Her _Aura_. Qrow could recall the inky blackness, the spread of nothingness connecting the woman's hands to Amber's face. That, and Amber's screams. The woman _smiled_. She smiled like a kid in a candy shop that had gotten what she'd wanted. She smiled like she'd just won something big. She smiled like everything was going to according to plan. Qrow only hoped he had gotten there in time to stop it completely.

Amber breathes in, shallow and ragged. Qrow grips her tighter, signalling a distress call with his scroll. The arrow was still poking out of her back, and Qrow gingerly grabs in, mutters a small apology to the Maiden before snapping the shaft off, leaving the arrowhead dug inside. Amber twitches slightly, but her eyes remain closed. Qrow does his best to stem the bleeding, cradling her in the middle of the mud path.

He should have been faster. He should have been more alert. He could have done something. He could have done more.

Amber was a Maiden. Batting a thousand was an absolute necessity here. And now he'd failed. He'd slipped and somebody was hurt. Somebody important.

Yeah, Qrow feels like he fucked up.

The sound of a Bullhead rushing in for a quick landing is a welcome one. Qrow gathers Amber up gingerly, bounding over to the transport. The door opens and it starts ascending even as he steps foot onto the transport. The medic inside helps him to place Amber face down onto a stretcher, and he starts digging the arrowhead out of her back as Qrow sits down opposite her, quiet.

It isn't long before his scroll starts to ring.

"Qrow. Report," Ozpin speaks curtly. Qrow hangs his head, pausing before giving his answer.

"They got to her. Amber is... incapacitated," Qrow sighs deeply. "They... did something to her Ozpin. She's not looking so good."

The line is silent for a few beats.

"Very well. Return to us at once," Ozpin speaks, and Qrow could swear he heard the hint of nervousness in his voice.

The Bullhead isn't going nearly fast enough, Qrow thinks. He doesn't once pull out the flask in his jacket.

* * *

"We have a Maiden, barely alive, and a mystery woman with half her power," Ironwood places a hand on the glass case Amber is in. "This is a crisis."

"These are trying circumstances, yes," Ozpin grips his cane tight. "We have to decide our next course of action."

Ironwood's gaze never leave's Amber's comatose form. "My cryogenic tube will keep her alive and safe for the time being."

"We have to find who did this to her," Qrow spoke from his position, leaning against the wall away from the group crowded there. "We have to get her power back."

"We have to make sure the power doesn't fall into the wrong hands," Glynda says solemnly. Everybody understands the underlying implication. If the good guys can't get the power back, the bad guys can't get it either. It could be a 'search-and-destroy' mission, instead of an 'investigate-and-capture' mission. The former boded well for nobody. The latter was going to be very tough. Neither option would likely bring Amber back. Qrow's stomach flip-flops at the thought.

"Then we are in agreement," Ozpin nods, speaking with his eyes closed. "Qrow. Go back to the scene of the incident. Investigate the area around. Find out anything you can about our mystery assailants," he looks to Amber. "Our Maiden will be safe for the time being. Nobody knows of her location. Nobody knows of her state."

Qrow nods mutely.

"We have to do all we can," Ozpin opens his eyes and looks up. "For the good of humanity."

* * *

"You did all you could Qrow," Ozpin says from behind him. Qrow looks back for a moment, then shrugs. He'd heard enough of that phrase. Raven, Summer- and now Amber. Maybe life would one day come to a point where it would stop wrenching the important people away from him. He'd drink to that.

"You do not have to take all the blame," Ozpin says, wise and solemn as ever. "All of us missed it. Any one of us could have been there too."

Qrow uncaps his flask and takes a long swig, focusing on how it burned down his throat instead of the burning ache he felt in his chest right then.

"I'll find who did this," he says to Ozpin as he enters the elevator. He turns to face him "And I'll make them pay."

* * *

 **It's because Qrow is amazing and I like writing things with Qrow in it.**


	14. Smooth Little Rose

**Ruby's sudden obsession with hands makes Weiss very, very confused.**

* * *

Ruby couldn't stop thinking about hands.

It started during a particularly boring lesson in Professor Port's class. Ruby had fixated herself on her hands the entire lesson as Professor Port went off on another tangent again. This time it was an anecdote about how he had once escaped from a hole with the help of a cow. Something like that. Ruby was busy studying her hands. How each joint functioned, how they worked together. She studied her palm lines and imagined how they came to be, looking so much like worn, dried riverbeds as they did.

Ruby examined her fingers and her knuckles, flexing and testing her dexterity. Each digit could function independently, and she made each one move after the other at different times, like a centipede moving. It was fascinating. The smooth white skin of her palms, the loose skin where each joint met, the smooth hard plating of her nails.

Then a new hand slapped hers. Snow white, whiter than her own. She flinched slightly, then looked to the owner of the hand. A certain Weiss Schnee glared at her and silently told her to pay attention. Professor Port had finished his story and was now explaining the differenced between claw size of the different classes of Beowulfs. Hands. Ruby payed attention.

After class, back in their dorm, Ruby fixed back on her hands. She compared it to those of Grim in her textbook, twisting and moving her hand to make it look like theirs. She wondered what the scale would be like in real life, comparing hand sizes. Perhaps she should ask Yang. After all, Yang's whole thing was using her hands. Maybe she punched one in the hand before. A deadly fist bump, if you would.

"Ruby, what are you doing?" Weiss asked, snapping Ruby back to reality, and the task at hand, well not quite at hand, but-

Ruby closed her textbook, looking at Weiss sheepishly. She rolled her eyes at her team leader, tapping Ruby's essay pad with the tip of her pen.

"Finish your essay, then you can goof around."

And so Ruby did.

The next day was more variations on the theme. Hands. Bones. Vessels. Nerves. Muscles. Ruby studied and fixated on it all.

Weiss finally broke during lunch.

"Okay, what is your deal with hands?" she asked, exasperated. Ruby paused, looking at her partner. Then an idea struck.

"Well, I just find them fascinating," Ruby said, chuckling nervously. "Joints and fingers and- Did you know," Ruby held her hand out, palm out, gesturing for Weiss to do the same. She bemusedly relented. "That the spaces between your fingers," Ruby laced her hand with Weiss. "Are a perfect fit for my fingers?"

Weiss blushed madly. Ruby squeezed hers hand before letting go, getting up to return her tray. Luckily Blake and Yang had left earlier to get Yang's textbook she forgot in their room. Suddenly, Weiss couldn't stop thinking about hands either.

* * *

 **It was all a setup for a dumb joke guys.**


	15. Bleep Bloop

**Yang texts Blake with something very important to say.**

* * *

 _'dear blake'_ Yang types on her scroll.

 _'Nobody starts texts with 'dear _', Yang.'_ comes the reply.

 _'it has been a long time coming'_

 _'You're also literally right on the top bunk.'_

 _'but i feel like this is something i gotta say'_

 _'There's literally no need for you to text me right now.'_

 _'blake im trying to tell you something important please'_

 _'If it was actually important you would come down here and tell me.'_

 _'blake. please.'_

A sigh, (and a smile) before Blake types back.

 _'Okay. Continue.'_

 _'thank you. i just feel like there's something going on'_

 _'Do tell.'_

 _'blake. do you believe in destiny?'_

 _'Sure. Why not.'_

 _'because blake i feel like this is destiny'_

 _'What is?'_

 _'this blake. this.'_

Yang lets out a huge burp. Blake tries to suppress her laughter. She fails.

 _'You're an idiot.'_

 _'a funny idiot'_

 _'An idiot.'_

 _'you love it'_

 _'Weiss doesn't.'_

Yang notes the dirty look Weiss gives her, shrugging and smiling in response.

 _'weiss schmeiss'_

 _'Good one, Yang.'_

 _'ayy, thanks kitty cat'_

 _'I hate you.'_

 _'you love me'_

 _'Debatable.'_

 _'and i love you'_

The conversation stops there, as Blake stops replying. Yang figures she just went back to her book. It isn't until Blake is sure Yang is asleep when she texts back.

 _'I love you too.'_


	16. Like Father

**Being Marcus Black's son, pain is almost a given in Mercury's life.**

* * *

The first time Mercury is hurt- really bad- he's 4 and his father is teaching him to toughen up. To fight. To kill. Marcus takes the confused boy outside one cold starry night, and tells Mercury to hit him. As hard as he can. Mercury is confused and frightened. Mercury wants to go back inside and sit by the warm fire, and marvel at how it moves. Marcus tells him he is weak when Mercury refuses to hit his father, and starts crying.

"Mercury," Marcus gets down to his eye level, and speaks very softly. "I am going to teach you how to be an assassin. A killer," he grabs the boy by that back of his neck. "But first, I will have to teach you discipline."

And he hits Mercury. Slaps him on the side of his head. He falls over, and once the pain settles in, he begins wailing. Marcus hits him again. And again. And again. He takes care to not seriously injure the boy- bruises and cuts only. His aura is not yet realized. Nobody is around to hear the screams. Marcus drags him back inside, and locks him in his room for three days with no food.

The second time Mercury is hurt, he sees it coming. 5 years of training with a master assassin gives young Mercury a good sense of when strikes are going to land. Being Marcus Black's son only enhances that. Marcus' foot lands square in the middle of his chest anyway, and Mercury feels his aura drain. The blow sends him tumbling, and Mercury rolls to rebalance himself on his feet. He is young and clumsy and ends up crashing into the wall of the dojo. Marcus' next blow strikes his rib again, and Mercury hasn't ever felt this much pain. He feels his ribs crack and all the wind is knocked out of him. He lies choking and gasping for air on the floor of the dojo.

"You are slow. You are weak. You are careless," Marcus says, standing over his son. There is no hint of remorse or compassion in his eyes. "If I were the enemy, you would be dead. They will not show you mercy. They will not hesitate to end you. You are lucky I do."

He walks off, and Mercury's intense hatred only burns steadier.

The third time is the worst. Mercury is 18 and he's trying his best. He blocks his father's lightning-quick blows. He counters when he sees a vulnerability. He strikes when he sees an opening. His boots make and awful clanking and scraping sound as they connect with blades. His legs ache more than they ever have. His mind is racing, but he can feel how tired his body is. His father doesn't falter.

Block, roll, shoot, block, kick off. Block, kick, duck, roll, block. Block, block, block, block-

" _Fuck!_ " Mercury roars, as a blade pierces his left calf. The last blow had drained his aura- he'd been too distracted to notice. His father surely would have. Mercury's momentum throws him into the corner as he crumples. Marcus doesn't miss a beat. He drives the other blade into his kneecap. Mercury cries out in agony.

"You are still weak," he says calmly. He pulls the first blade out, and brings it down on Mercury's right ankle. It shatters the bones and Mercury is blinded by the pain. "You are still not good enough. You are a disgrace," he stabs the blade into his other calf now. Mercury passes out from the pain before long.

When he awakes, Mercury is different. His hatred has solidified itself, rooted itself into his core. He wants nothing more than to murder his father. He wants to not exist. He wants to curse whichever diety decided to put him into existence. His legs are gone, replaced with a skeletal metal frame.

Mercury hates his father.

It is a few months later when he decides his father cannot hurt him anymore.

It starts with the knife he'd snuck out, sinking deep in between his father's shoulderblades. Marcus roars in pain, looks behind to see his son, face contorted in hatred. He takes advantage of Marcus' surprise to plant a shotgun-assisted kick right in his father's face. He's never felt anything more satisfying. His father goes flying.

Mercury uses every dirty trick he knows. The house catches fire at some point. His father puts up a good fight. Mercury kicks him down, grabs him and throws him down the hill they lived atop. Marcus goes tumbling down. His aura's been drained. He's gasping and choking. His leg is twisted all wrong. Mercury calmly walks down.

No words are exchanged, and Mercury slams his foot down on Marcus' head, and he goes limp. Mercury spits on his dead body. He barely has time to register anything, when two people emerge from the woods.

They ask him where they can find Marcus Black. Mercury gestures to the dead body.

From then on, Mercury lived only in hatred and anger. And Cinder gave him the perfect outlets for them.


	17. Wot?

**Believe it or not, Team SSSN isn't the tight, fast and efficient killing machine they appear to be.**

* * *

"No, but like, you ever wonder why we're here?"

"Dude, right? Like, why are we here? Are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or-"

"I will hurt the both of you if you keep talking."

"Somebody's bringing the salt."

"Yeah, you're being a mingy little mingepot, Sage."

"Thank you, Scarlet."

"You're welcome Sun."

A long sigh.

"What does 'minge' even mean?"

"It means you're being a bit stroppy."

"What?"

"No, I'm gonna have to go with Sage on this one. What?"

"Stroppy!"

"Scarlet, you saying it again does not clarify anything. In fact it makes it _more_ confusing."

"It's not even a word, is it? Like- stroppy. That's definitely not a word, dude."

"Now you're both being stroppy little mingemeisters."

"English, Scarlet!"

"I am speaking more english than the both of you dopes!"

"No way. You said stroppy. That is not english."

"Not even a little bit. Neptune, back us up."

"Huh?"

"Scarlet said 'strappy little munge'- wait, what did you say?"

"I said 'stroppy little mingemeisters, Sun, you dope."

"Woah. Okay. I feel like I just had a stroke. What?"

"Aw, weak. Not you too, Neptune!"

"Why would you assume I know what you're talking about more than anybody else?"

"Because you're my boi, Nep."

"Hey, I thought I was your boi!"

"You're my boi too, Sun!"

"..."

"Yes Sage, of course you're my boi!"

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to boi."

"Shut up."

"My little boi."

"Shut. Up."

"My little Sage little boi."

"I'm going to strangle you, Scarlet."

* * *

 **Emphasis on 'dorks'.**


	18. A Totally Innocent Sparring Match

**Yang wants to learn how to fight like Weiss, for totally innocent reasons.**

* * *

She fought with such fluidity, grace, and calm that Yang couldn't even dream of emulating. Weiss glided across the battlefield (quite literally sometimes), attacking her enemies when the opportunity presented itself, when she saw an opening or vulnerability. Her face was stony and calm, her actions were so precise and perfect, they might as well have been choreographed. Everything about her _screamed_ perfection.

But Yang knew better.

Still, it didn't stop her from feeling just a teensy bit jealous that she could never do that. Fight with calm. Fight with grace. Fast and effecient.

Not that she had a problem with the way she fought. Yang's relentless brute force attacks had served her well. Her semblence, after all, demanded it. Demanded violence. Demanded her to hit just as hard as she got hit. Hers was a fire that burned bright and brilliant. And she was absolutely fine with that.

Still. One couldn't help but wonder.

Pretty little 'combat skirt' twirling as she did, ponytail whipping this way and that as her lithe body moved, lightning fast, her rapier glinting in the light of the combat hall. Yang couldn't tear her eyes off of Weiss- Weiss in combat that was (really!)- during Goodwitch's sparring matches. It was her against Sage, the large, dark-skinned tank of a man from team SSSN.

"And- match!"

It wasn't a very tough battle, Yang didn't think.

"Weiss Schnee is the victor," Professor Goodwitch noted, seeming almost impressed. "Thank you students, you may return to your seats."

Weiss gave Sage a little bow, because of course she did. Sage shouldered his large blade and gave her a lopsided smile as the pair headed back up to the stands. The bell rung, and Professor Goodwitch was rattling off about the tournament as she dismissed the class.

It was later on the way to the dormitory when Yang got a hold of Weiss.

"So, hey Weiss," she started lamely. Weiss looked at her confused. "I've been watching you fight, I mean, duh-"

"Spit it out, Yang," Weiss said, not entirely unkindly. Yang nodded.

"You think you could teach me?"

Weiss blanched. The other half of team RWBY was already inside the room at this point, none of them probably blindsided by ridiculous requests.

"Teach you?"

Yang bit her lip and crossed her arms, looking off to the side. "Yeah. Teach me how to fight like you do. You're so graceful and fluid, like dancing or something. I've always been sort of a 'punch anything that moves until it stops moving' kind of gal- but I was hoping that you could help me fight like you."

Weiss sighed when she realized the blonde was being serious.

"Why would you want to learn an entirely different style of fighting?"

Yang shrugged. Honestly, that was the best answer she had. That or: 'I've been recently enraptured with you when you're fighting- it's very confusing, please help.', and Yang didn't want to scare her off. Her ponytail swayed a bit as Weiss sighed again.

"Fine, but you had better take this seriously," Weiss pointed an accusatory finger at somewhere suspiciously close to the exposed part of Yang's chest, and withdrew it quickly when she realized where it was, light pink dusting her pretty little cheeks. Yang smiled, and Weiss turned and stalked into the room before Yang's smile could spread wider and threaten to eat her up or something, mumbling out something like "we'll start in the morning."

Morning came, and it found Yang alone with Weiss atop the roof of the dorm building. The sun hadn't even risen yet, but Yang couldn't find herself minding too much about the ungodly hour, for some reason all her attention was laid upon the Schnee, stretching her muscles out.

Wait, no.

Yang busied herself with stretching, looking away to hide the blush on her cheeks.

Weiss finally finished with a little moan and a sigh, and Yang had to bite down on her cheeks and clench her fists, for reasons honestly escaping her grasp at the moment.

Finally Weiss picked up her rapier, and got into a battle-ready stance, pointing it at Yang. Her body was still, ramrod straight legs slightly apart. Then she faltered slightly.

"Honestly, Yang. I don't know how translatable this will all be with your weapon," the heiress admitted, shrugging slightly. She raised Myrtenaster again. "But we'll do what we can."

Yang had to admit- even though she promised- she was distracted. She was very distracted. Only half of what Weiss said registered with her. Only half of that made sense. For some reason- for some strange, unfathomable reason- Yang couldn't stop staring at her. Weiss and all the little things she did. Weiss and all the big things she did. Weiss and everything she did, basically. Yang just barely deflected the point of Weiss' rapier away, and she felt the wind on her cheeks as she ducked out of a high kick.

Weiss stood on the other side of the roof, flushed with exertion and breathing heavily. Yang couldn't help but trace the beads of sweat that drew down her forehead, down to her cheeks, and further down to the column of exposed flesh that was her neck, and even down-

Weiss' rapier was suddenly pointed at the point of Yang's chin. She blinked and missed it, how fast Weiss had lunged. Suddenly, it was only the length of Myrtenaster that separated the both of them. Yang got an even better look at Weiss and everything Weiss did. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her throat bobbed as she swallowed before she spoke.

"You're not even paying attention, are you?" she asked, her tone accusatory, not in an entirely unjustified way. Yang stared at Weiss hard, because what else could she do?

"I- I totally am," she coughed out. Weiss rolled her eyes in response, not letting her rapier down. Yang flicked her eyes downward to the sharp point a hair's breadth away from her chin. She pouted slightly.

"Prove it," Weiss said, in that commanding, slightly haughty tone she had sometimes when she was challenging somebody to something. "Using what I taught you, get yourself out of this situation."

Now it was Yang's turn to narrow her eyes. Although she did so more in thought and less in suspicion.

And lightning-quick, Yang disarmed the Schnee, and slammed her against the wall, pining her wrists up above her head and almost crushing her with her body. Now, there wasn't the point of a rapier to distance the both of them.

It was a very dangerous situation for them to be in.

"Got you," Yang said softly, her face scant inches away from Weiss' as she looked at her for any sign of struggle. Weiss' eyes were aflame with something like a challenge. She looked up at the towering blonde with hardly any emotion, save for the furrow of her brows and how her mouth hung open slightly and Yang almost missed the way her breath hitched a little bit.

"Well?" Weiss said in a manner that made Yang think that maybe she had been waiting for this the entire time, like Yang pinning her against the wall was some sort of inevitability.

"What are you waiting for?" Weiss said in a manner that made Yang realize that she had wanted it to.

Yang obliged.

Yang obliged quickly at first, then slowly. Yang obliged with a little bit of teeth on Weiss' lower lip and Yang obliged happily.

When they pulled away, almost too quickly, they stared at each other in silence.

"So," Yang said.

"So," Weiss mimicked.

"Again?" Yang asked, pulling away.

"Again," Weiss replied fiercely, pulling Yang back in close.


	19. The Send Button

**The Ozluminati are really bad at responding to texts. Qrow is upset.**

* * *

They must not have their scrolls on them at the moment, Qrow thought. That's why nobody was replying to him. Qrow thumbed his phone, blanking the screen and stuffing it into his jacket pocket, taking out his flask in one smooth motion. Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes since he'd made his report. And nothing. Well. Okay. Maybe the reception here in this remote village wasn't so great. Maybe the message didn't properly.

Qrow looked up at the quickly darkening sky. The grey of the clouds and the smell of petrichor told him to move into a sheltered area before too long. Qrow patted his horse once before entering the inn. The low murmur and atmosphere of the unsavoury patrons of the bar greeted him. Eyes followed him to the bar, where he seated himself.

Qrow pulled his scroll out again. Still nothing. Maybe the bad weather was the cause of this. Yeah. That was probably it. Soon as the skies cleared up, Qrow was sure to receive a response, or some sort of acknowledgment.

"What'll it be, sir?" the chipper young bartender came up to him, her southern Mistrali drawl and youthful face giving her an air of innocence that offset the atmosphere of the bar. Her skirt length was appropriately slightly above the knee, giving Qrow no cause to crumple to the floor, defeated. Her hair was bright orange, and her smile looked genuine. She looked far too good to be working here.

"Strongest stuff you got," Qrow said, putting in at least a little bit of warmth to respond to the bartender in kind. At least however much he could into his gravel-charcoal mixture of a voice. She smiled and nodded, disappearing under the bar for a spell before coming up with a bottle of golden liquid. She poured it into a glass, half filling it. Qrow nodded to her as she went over to entertain some other patron.

He checked his scroll again.

Nothing. Again.

Okay, sky was still pouring, so no problem.

Qrow passed the time with drinks.

The other patrons didn't give him much trouble, for which Qrow was thankful for. He'd been having a crappy week, and he really didn't feel much like dealing with any idiot that thought picking a fight with him would be a good idea.

They must have been here once, he thought. The people responsible for Amber's state. They'd been here, to scope the place out if nothing else. Qrow could imagine them, stalking the shadows. Or maybe they blended right into the crowd. Another grimace in a sea of scowls. Another unsavoury character in a room full of crooks and thieves and liars and murderers.

"Anything else I can get for you, sir?" the young bartended leaned over to Qrow, lost in his thoughts. Qrow looked into his empty glass, and offered it to her to refill.

"It's Qrow. Don't call me 'sir'. Makes me feel old," he said. She nodded understandingly.

"My name is Kaylee. Pleased to meet you," she offered brightly. Qrow gave a small smile and a nod.

"So. Kaylee," Qrow swirled the ice in his glass a bit. "I don't suppose you've seen anybody... suspicious? In the past few weeks or so."

Kaylee laughed at that. "Take your pick," she gestured towards the other patrons of the bar with a nudge of the head. "We try not to ask too many questions around here. Keeps business going. So long as they've got lien, we'll get them what they need."

Qrow shrugged. It was worth a shot. "You seem pretty young to be here," he quirked a brow at her from behind his glass.

"Well, thanks. Don't worry about me. I can handle most've these guys," she dropped her voice a bit. "Mal takes care of the ones I can't."

Qrow smiled at that. She reminded him a bit of Ruby. He passed the time with more amicable conversation with Kaylee. Eventually the sky let up, and the sun started shining again.

Qrow took notice, and whipped his scroll out again.

0 notifications.

Now Qrow was worried. Did he not send his report properly? Did they not receive his message? Qrow checked his reception. It was fine. 3 bars, even this far outside of Vale. 3 full bars. So his message did send.

So that meant, they just weren't plain responding to him.

"Bastards," he muttered into his glass.

A simple 'okay' or even an 'acknowledged' from General Stick-Up-His-Ass would have been fine. Anything. Literally anything.

But no.

They decided to leave Qrow out in the dark?

No. Unacceptable.

* * *

 **QB:** _Is this how it's going to be_

 **QB:** _I'm out here risking life and limb_

 **QB:** _You shiznos can't even respond to my text?_

 **QB:** _Literally saw Amber dying_

 **QB:** _held her in my arms_

 **QB:** _my sister is missing_

 **QB:** _my best friend is dead_

 **QB:** _both of them were impregnated by my other best friend_

 **QB:** _my niece might be magic_

 **QB:** _my team lost the remnant-bowl_

 **QB:** _my life has been hard enough_

 **QB:** _I can't even get a response for a text?_

 **QB:** _I'm going to destroy your robots when I get back, Jimmy._

 **QB:** _I'm going to tear up the school._

 **QB:** _I hate all of you._


	20. The Warmth of Summer

**Summer and Qrow have a moment.**

* * *

"You're angry," the statement comes out simple, like a nice clean tick in the checkbox beside the words 'Make an obvious statement'.

Qrow _knows_ that he's angry. He doesn't especially need anybody telling him that he's angry because he can feel the dull ache in his body and the blood pounding in his ears and the scene running over and over and over again in his head, like he was an especially shitty broken recording, playing only the maddening parts of a tape. Each time he just grew more indignant, stoking the fire even more, like a closet pyromaniac living in a straw hut- it was only a matter of time until the whole thing burned down.

Qrow thinks he's doing a pretty good job of keeping it under control.

Summer knows him better than that.

"I'm fine," he seethes at her, his weapon clenched tight in his fist, bulging his veins. Summer's surprised his teeth haven't completely shattered from the force he's applying to them. She can see the slight tremors in his arm as he readies for another strike at the dummy- a tiger seconds away from pouncing on it's prey. She sighs, ever the weary mother of the team.

There's a sharp slice of metal hitting metal, a loud, high-pitched sound that echoes throughout the training room. A small indicator of the boiling rage that stewed inside the man, threatening to explode outwards to the surface, like a screaming kettle, shaking and bursting with heat energy. Summer bites her lip. She's seen Qrow angry before, but she's never seen him like this.

"Qrow," Summer says, looking at him with an expression that he knew would melt past his defenses in a second, like he was a piece of chocolate underneath a magnified ray of sun. Qrow hesitates for a split second, darting his eyes, crimson-red as they were, to look into hers, silver and big and teeming with well-meaning and good intentions and probably everything that was good in the world. He wavers for a second, a runner stumbling over a stone in his path, but the rage flares back up in an instant, and he catches himself and tightens his grip on his weapon, eyeing the training dummy again.

"I said I'm fine, Summer," he says again in between clenched teeth, in a manner that conveyed how actually not-okay he was. Summer sighed again, quietly. How come she got stuck leading a team of the most stubborn assholes she'd ever met? She begins walking up to him, and Qrow's anger flares again, irrationally, unintentionally, instinctively. Summer knows this, but shows no signs of backing down, standing tall (well, as tall as 5'3" would let her) and walking calmly towards the taller man.

Qrow almost growls, and heaves a mighty swing of the sword at the dummy, denting the hell out of it horizontally across the torso. Summer doesn't flinch, unblinking and unwavering, and for a moment, Qrow realizes she's about the only thing in his life left that was like that. She stops just short of him, a foot away maybe, and looks at him. He doesn't dare look back at her.

"Qrow," Summer says in a small voice, inching in closer, like the opposite poles of a weak magnet, moving in closer bit by bit, inch by inch. Qrow hesitates for a good while before looking straight at her.

There are no tears in her eyes. There is no tremble in her lips. Her throat doesn't bob with indecision or hesitation, and her voice doesn't warble in the least. She stands strong and solid, like nothing, no force on the earth could ever knock her down. She isn't backing down any time soon, and she makes this known just through her presence. Summer isn't afraid of Qrow. There is no girl cowering in fear at the poorly hidden display of anger, or scared of the vulnerability that the rage implies.

It's just Summer Rose- his best friend and his leader, trying to get him to his senses.

If Summer was afraid, it was not of Qrow, but rather for Qrow. She knows the path that anger sets somebody on, and she doesn't want to see it happen to her friend.

"She left, Summer," he says quietly, loosening his grip on his weapon, letting it slump onto the floor, like a tired old man letting his guard down after a lifetime of battle. He'd expected it, maybe somewhere deep down, but he'd never actually thought it would happen. Something about their final year at Beacon had left changed his sister. Something had happened, and he didn't even realize it until it was too late. Something had changed about her and he couldn't help anymore.

It had always been the both of them covering each other's backs. From their father's wrath or the savage creatures beyond the limits of civilization, the Raven had always had his back, and he had hers. Now she was gone, and she was never coming back, and Qrow couldn't help the dull, empty feeling it left him inside.

"I know, Qrow," Summer grabs his wrist gently. Qrow doesn't move, doesn't dare to, stuck frozen as Summer takes his hand, bringing it up in between them. She folds it into a fist, staring at the individual knuckles. She waits a moment, giving him an opportunity to voice his discomfort, or any hesitation. He doesn't react. It's rare that Qrow ever has a vulnerable moment, so Summer indulges in the moment.

His hand dwarfs hers, and he towers over her, and he could easily overpower her, but right now, Qrow Branwen was completely at Summer Rose's mercy.

Summer places a gentle kiss onto Qrow's knuckle, like her mother used to do to her. She could only hope that he felt the same amount of comfort that she used to feel. Summer looks up at Qrow, and his expression is indecipherable. She takes that as a good sign, sighing quietly and squeezing his hand before wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

Qrow wraps his arms around her after a while. Summer can't help, but she does the best she can. It's all she can hope to do.

* * *

 **Oops I wrote more Qrow.**


	21. Retrouvailles

**Ruby finds somebody in the last place she expects.**

* * *

Ruby hadn't expected to find her here.

Ruby hadn't expected to find her at all, actually.

But here she was, more haggard than Ruby ever remembered. Various wounds and scratches and bruises marred the otherwise smooth surface of her skin. Thick bandages were wrapped around her arm, a dull red colour present on it, like a wine stain that couldn't quite come out of the carpet. Her bow was missing, her ears open to the air, and her hair pulled into a loose bun, strands of her coming down to tickle her face and sway slightly with the quiet breeze like silent wind chimes. Blake Belladonna didn't look very well. She stood still across the street, the freshly slain corpse of a Grimm fading into nothingness beside her. She looked like a ghost, although that could just have been Ruby's pure shock. She might as well have been looking at a ghost, a spectre from a time before, that wasn't so long ago but felt like eternity. The grey of dusk certainly didn't help.

"Blake?" Ruby asked, her voice small and quiet and disbelieving because even though the girl she was looking at had all the features of the faunus girl she once knew, she looked nothing like her. Besides, what else could she say? A million thoughts ran through her mind, a million questions were threatening to burst through like water out of a dam, but somehow she managed to freeze right there on the spot, just looking at her friend. Her spectre. Her runaway. Her white whale. Her teammate. Her friend. _Her friend._

"Ruby," she responded, in a way that was almost disappointed, almost jubilant, almost heartbroken; a confused mix of emotions only the horribly guilty could experience. Blake found this to be funny, actually. Not 'ha-ha-ha' funny in a comedic sense, but funny in that of all the people to run into in the Grimm-infested, desolate ruins of Vale, it would be Ruby Rose, and nobody else. It was funny in the way the universe was when it wanted to say 'fuck you', but couldn't actually express it in words, so it instead chose to present it in such a way that was infinitely more effective. Like dead parents. Like a murderous mentor. Like a horde of monsters unleashed onto innocent people. That kind of funny.

Ruby started walking across the street, slow and casual as you please. Some part of Blake's mind screamed and flailed and told her to run, run away, please god run away as fast as you can. She slid a foot back instinctively, tensing up and getting ready to flee. The more rational part of her brain told her she would never have a chance of outrunning the younger girl. The little voice inside her brain sighed inside and was relieved that Ruby was alright, and shame overwhelmed her with every step forward that she took.

Ruby didn't flinch, finally stopping right in front of the slightly taller girl. Neither made a move for a moment. The distant growls that usually accompanied the silence of what was Vale were now quiet. Silent for a moment, as if all life itself hadn't expected this to happen and were waiting to see which direction it was going, so it could plan accordingly how best to destroy everything good about it.

Then Ruby hugged Blake. She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her so tight Blake thought she might burst, only she realized that she was feeling that way not because of the intensity of the hug, but the rush of emotion that overcame her because of it. Not for the last time Blake cursed her damnable emotions. Her stupid feelings that got her into this mess anyway. The guilt of getting _her_ hurt piled onto the guilt of running piled onto the guilt of not being able to save anyone or stop anything piled onto the guilt of Ruby Rose with her arms wrapped so tight around her, conveying love for her that she never, ever deserved a single iota of.

Blake wrapped her own arms around Ruby. Her throat felt tight and her insides were crawling and in free-fall at the same time. She felt the smaller stature of Ruby and almost laughed when she realized that without her heels, they'd probably be the same height, and her hair had gotten longer and lighter in colour, and she smelled like roses still and she was shaking a little bit, but probably not as much as Blake, oh god _Ruby_.

Her heart pounded in her ears and her vision blurred and some small part of her didn't want the hot tears to fall because she shouldn't even be here right now, let alone hugging her. It was reckless and irresponsible on Blake's part. Ruby had to get away-

"I'm so glad you're okay," Ruby whispered, interrupting Blake's runaway train of thought. Her voice was hoarse and she sounded older, far older than she had any right to be.

Blake didn't know how to respond except to hold her tighter and say 'I'm sorry' over and over again in pained whispers and whimpers.

They stayed like this for a while. Tears stained both of their clothes and for a while relief, sweet relief was all they felt because they were _alive,_ they were _okay_ , even when everything they knew had collapsed, fallen like dominoes around them and every comfort they had known was fractured, almost to the point of no repair.

Here they were embracing each other in the ruins of a civilization, not overrun by monsters, and they were relieved.

After a while, they came back down, and Blake pulled away first, and Ruby did the same a bit more reluctantly.

Then Ruby stared at Blake, and she could have almost withered under that stare just out of pure guilt. The question wormed it's way to the front of Blake's mind, burgeoning and insistent and Blake's tongue found it didn't have the courage to actually ask, freezing like it was winter in her mouth. She inhaled and held her breath, not wanting to ask it, _burning_ to ask it.

"What are you doing here?" Ruby asked, and Blake winced at the slight bitter undertone in her voice. She supposed she deserved it, after all. It still stung, though.

No less than you deserve, something inside her chimed.

Blake bit her lip, then looked around. The sky was quickly darkening, and this place was already a threat with light out. She didn't feel safe, being this exposed, where anything could attack them from anywhere.

As if on cue, the howl of a beowolf sounded through the air, followed by what sounded like hundreds of howls joining it. Both Ruby and Blake unsheathed their weapons, heads whipping around to the source of the sound. A sudden wave of something she figured was nostalgia hit her as she stood, ready to fight, beside her teammate. A scene of a bygone era, she had thought. Yet here they were.

"It'll have to wait, let's go," Ruby said, and without missing a bit, sped off down the street. Blake didn't even hesitate before following, and that alone filled the both of them with hope. Hope that one day, things might go back to the way they were.

* * *

 **I wrote a thing while I was writing another thing my bad.**


	22. Things Blake Missed Out On Vol 1

**Yang builds a pillow fort. Blake joins in.**

* * *

"Yang," said Blake. Yang had, over time, learned the different meanings of the different intonations and inflections Blake used when saying her name. Sometimes it meant 'Stop talking', sometimes it meant 'What are you doing?', sometimes it meant ' _Get over here_ '. The last one was her favourite. But after careful consideration, Yang took this particular 'Yang' to mean 'What in the hell are you up to this time?'.

Of course, most people would have inferred that from the scattering of pillows all around the living room, forming the half-finished pillow fort in the middle. Blake quirked a brow at her girlfriend, a hand resting on her hip as she waited for her to explain herself. She hadn't expected Blake to come home this early. She quickly glanced at the clock, cursing her rusty pillow-fort construction skills. In her prime, she would have had this finished in 5 minutes flat. She used to be a champion pillow-fort builder, the envy of all 6 year olds across the land.

Now she was 24, and looking up at her bemused girlfriend from a half baked fort like some sort of idiot. The fort wasn't even half finished. 6 year old Yang would never respect 24 year old Yang.

"Blake," Yang replied, with all the dignity she could muster, which wasn't very much.

"What are you doing?" Blake asked. Really, after 6 months of living together, she should have expected something like this. She shouldn't have even been surprised. Yang put down a pillow and sprang up to her feet. A wall of pillows separated the both of them. Yang flourished her hands a little at the pillows all around her. Blake was just worried Yang wouldn't remember to put all of them back when she was done doing... whatever it is she was doing.

"Ta-da!" Yang said, as if that somehow made everything clearer, like Blake would just go 'ah', and nod in immediate understanding. As it was, Blake still wore a quizzical expression on her face, with just enough deadpan to make Yang pause and explain herself further.

"It's a pillow fort!" Yang said proudly, gesturing to the scattered pillows around her. "Or, at least, it's supposed to be. I haven't finished it yet."

"A pillow fort," Blake eyed her girlfriend. "Uh huh. Do you do this a lot in your spare time?"

"Well I used to be better at it," Yang pouted a little bit.

"You know we're both in our 20s right?"

Yang scoffed. "That doesn't mean we can't build a little pillow fort every now and then."

"I think it does, actually," Blake tilted her head a little bit.

Yang carefully balanced a pillow atop two other precariously stacked pillows. "If that's what being an adult is, then consider me a child!" she declared proudly.

"I think Weiss would agree with you there," Blake replied sardonically. Yang stuck her tongue out at her.

"Now, are you going to help me build this pillow fort or what?"

Blake set her purse down on the table. "Well, I've never actually built one before."

Yang's head popped out of a hole on her roof, a severe expression on her face. "What?!" Yang ducked back down like a groundhog that had seen it's own shadow, carefully crawling out of her little foxhole. She crossed the pillow fort wall, bounding over to Blake to grab her by the shoulders. "You've never built a pillow fort before?!"

"Well, I was raised by revolutionaries turned terrorists. Not much time for fort-building between the rallies and raids," Blake shrugged slightly.

"Blake," Yang moved in closer, looking intensely at the faunus with wide, unblinking eyes. " _Blake,_ " she whispered. " _You'veneverbuiltapillowfort_ ," she reared back quickly and declared, "Blake Belldonna, today shall be your first pillow fort night! I will pop your pillow fort cherry! That sounded way weirder than I thought it would," she crossed back over the pillow fort wall, and gestured for Blake to follow. "Come on!"

Blake untied her bow, and followed Yang, like she always would, and was rewarded by a kiss, before being handed a couch cushion.

Time to build a fort.

* * *

 **I just felt like writing a bit of mindless fluff and whatever maybe I'm having trouble writing Pieces what's it to you fuck.**


	23. How To Keep Living

**Yang sits in bed and wonders.**

* * *

Of course she was angry. Why shouldn't she be?

Yang Xiao Long was not lacking in reasons to be angry. She had many, many reasons to choose from, and many, many things to direct that anger towards. So yes, Yang was angry.

Except she didn't _feel_ angry. She just felt... empty. Like whatever had previously occupied her body and gave her reason, just plain old reason to _be,_ had left, and taken a huge chunk of Yang with it. She supposed that she was justified in feeling angry, and that anger would be the rational emotion to feel in this situation.

But when she looked out the window, when she felt the stillness of the world, when her mind wandered, all she felt was numb.

Stump arm, school destroyed, a friend dead and turned to ash, best friend gone, little sister gone, her team, her friends _gone_.

Maybe it was the most logical course of action, to just stay inside for the rest of her life. Forever. Where nothing could hurt her or bond with her and rip her apart by leaving, or give her life and abandon her, or turn her into a _freak_.

Nah. Sooner or later would find a way to fuck this up, too. It was probably inevitable.

Yang sighed.

Why wasn't she angry?

That's what her whole life had been structured around, hadn't it? It had been built into her soul, her very being. Anger, red hot and blazing. Anger, blinding white and unstoppable. Anger, fierce and strong and fueled by pain and hurt. Literally, whatever didn't kill her made her stronger, and stronger, and stronger.

So how was it that this pain had sapped her of any strength that she had? Reduced her to nothing. Dark circles and unkempt hair and dull eyes, and probably an indent in her bed from all the time she spent there. That's all this pain had amounted to.

Not strength. Not power. Just emptiness.

Not for the last time, she wished that sword had pierced somewhere closer to her heart. Wished she was the one that had to make the noble sacrifice, to keep all the others alive, to keep them going. Suddenly, she thought being reduced to ash didn't seem so bad after all. Instead here she was- broken and useless.

The door knocked once, and a blonde mop of hair attached to a sympathetic face popped in. "Hey, kiddo," he said. Taiyang made an imperceptible twitch when his eyes landed over Yang's missing limb. It was something Yang had notice early on, and it was driving her crazier and crazier each day. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she lied. Taiyang didn't buy it. Yang didn't care. The creases on his brow deepened.

"I brought you some food," he nudged the door open, carrying a tray with a bowl on it. "Maybe you could try eating it this time," he joked lightly, though the hurt still undercut his tone. Yang barely looked at him. He sighed and set the tray on her bedside table, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her.

For the longest time, he just sat there, looking at her. She glanced at him once, and turned her gaze back outside. Neither moved or talk. Yang suddenly felt a little pressure build up inside her. A tiny bit of frustration that he was still around. She knew he'd been hurt before. Loads of times. But he still had both of his arms. He still had what was left of his family. He had something. Life had thrown him a bone, however small it may have been.

Only, Yang supposed, maybe it hadn't. It suddenly registered with Yang that her father was hurting too.

Yang turned to find his blue eyes piercing into hers.

"Why wasn't it me?" Yang blurted out suddenly, surprising even herself. She decided to roll with the momentum her words had given her. "Why did Pyrrha and Penny die, but I'm still alive and useless and alone?"

Taiyang clenched his fists, then relaxed. He knew this feeling all too well.

"Oh, honey," he whispered, sitting himself down on he bed and pulling her into an embrace. "You're not useless."

"I am!" Yang exclaimed, her remaining hand outstretched.

"No, Yang, you're not useless," Taiyang said patiently. "You're alive," he looked a thousand miles away. "You're alive, and that means something. You're still breathing, you can still fight. You have to."

Taiyang placed a kiss on Yang's forehead. "If there's one thing I've learned it's that dying is the easy. The hard part is living. But you have to. You have to keep living, keep going, moving forward."

"Well... why?"

"For the people you love, of course."

They stayed in an embrace for a while. Yang wondered. Could she really fight for the people she loved anymore?

Outside, the sun shined over the snow-covered forest, and for the first time in a while, Yang felt a little bit of it's warmth.


	24. Darkness of the Dawn

**Jaune has a dream.**

* * *

You look at her, and you think for a moment, you are as weak as she makes you. You are as strong as she makes you. You are right, probably. It sounds cliche in your head, but then again, the reason it's a cliche is because it's true. When she glances at you, the little sideways kind, the kind she gives you with emerald eyes when she catches you staring, it's like you can feel every cell in your being contract and vibrate and your heart feels twisted and sideways and dripping- like it's heavy. But you feel oh-so-light, like you could fly. Then she smiles, a small little smile, and you feel yourself flush a little bit. What are you supposed to do with that? It's like falling in love, every time you see her. Again and again and again and it never gets tiring or boring because how the hell could it? Not her. Never her.

She's an angel, you think, and you'd be half-right. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, undone from it's usual ponytail, blood-red and flowing like water, she looks like she never has before. You suddenly feel horribly, terribly inadequate. How could you, you of all people, ever think to compare to her? To ever consider being her counterpart. Even though you want nothing more, you know you don't deserve it.

Then she smiles bigger and her eyes sparkle, and you forget all about it. She dispels every bad feeling you harbor. Nothing bad could ever happen around her, because she made everything good. She was the essence of everything that ever went right in your life. You know you owe it to her. All of it. Everything. Nothing you are would be possible if she hadn't-

She takes a step toward you, and you twitch with the thought, the anticipation of being able to touch her, to make contact with her- _with her_.

She doesn't have to dress to impress. She already impresses. Time and again, over and over, she's a gut punch to make you out of breath, in the best possible way. She takes another step, and you think you can wait an eternity if it means that by the end you actually get to be with her. Your guts twist and coil. She tends to have this effect on you. She tends to have many, many effects on you. From the tips of your toes to the top of you head, she affected you in every facet.

You want nothing more than to love her, you think. You want nothing more than to hold her and treasure her and love her for the rest of forever and for the eternity that came after that. There's nothing else, you think. Nothing else that could ever compare, that could ever pretend to make you as happy as this would.

Only you can't, can you?

Pyrrha Nikos is dead, Jaune.

You can't.

Jaune jolts awake, and he notices his vision is blurry, and his chest feels tight, and he breathes in a ragged breath. Tears stain the pillow he was resting on, and her hurriedly wipes them away, breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm his racing heart. He wants to close his eyes, but he can't because he's scared he'll see her again, and oh god he wants to see her again so badly, just to tell her- to get the chance to tell her how he felt. To apologize. To do _something_.

The past few weeks have been like this, and Jaune wonders when it'll stop, and some part of him hopes they never. A sort of atonement for his sins. A small price to pay compared to what Pyrrha went through.

Pyrrha Nikos is dead, he tells himself, as if the realization would lessen the ache in his heart. Pyrrha Nikos is dead.

Jaune buries himself in his pillow and he cries.

* * *

 **Shit it started out as fluff.**

 **I'm just trying to pump out some simple one-shots that I can write in like half and hour, so as to make up for my lack of usual content oops sorry life is super busy my bad.**


	25. That Would Be Enough

**Weiss practices her singing.**

* * *

The motions of her hands over the piano were more muscle memory than conscious action by this point. Weiss played out a beautiful melody, the opening keys to a song she had long since memorised. A song that had lost all meaning over the years, instead adopting a newer, more resentful tone in her head every time she played it. She had been careful not to let her thoughts reflect in her demeanor. It was practically second nature at this point. Talk less, smile more, and nobody knew what you were against or what you were for. The life of a Schnee. Smiles and tears in the dark and daggers hidden in shadows and a perfect glass facade. The life of a Schnee.

Mirror, mirror, she sang. Her voice hit all the notes perfectly. The rhythm was impeccable. The pitch was perfect. Everything anybody ever expected of a Schnee. A _Schnee,_ who might as well be a glass ballerina, trapped inside a music box. Wound up and played for amusement. For show. Nothing more beyond that. Disconnected from the reality of being a normal human being. Pristine looks and smiles and enjoyable performances, manners, Weiss, have you forgotten yours? Chin up, smile more, Weiss, talk less, you're not here to give your opinion Weiss-

Weiss played the song. Mirror, mirror.

But there was something else there now. A little glimmer of something good. Weiss played the song, and she couldn't help but remember the off tune, off beat tones of a certain pair of sisters, sang into hairbrushes in the wee hours of the night, done merely for amusement. For themselves, and nobody else. Weiss couldn't help the feeling of light that bloomed in her chest at the thought of them being here, listening to her sing right then and there,and joining in with their horrible, wretched voices without a hint of hesitation, just to put a smile on her face. With a bit on cajoling, even Blake would have joined in, and Weiss really couldn't stop the smile from blooming on her face at that. She would pay her family fortune to whichever diety wanted it for her thoughts to turn into reality at that very moment. In fact, Weiss squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, wishing.

To nobody's surprise, Weiss opened her eyes to find herself alone.

She let out a sigh.

Weiss restarted the opening notes of the song. The song her father would have her sing for everybody, to show her off. She hated it.

But this time, she had the thought of her friends to give her hope. And if nothing else, Weiss would settle for the warmth of hope in the cold of Schnee Manor. It would be enough to get her through the days till they were together again.

Weiss played the song.

* * *

 **Something something November something something writing.**


	26. What Happened Next

**Qrow recovers his niece from the wreckage of Beacon Academy.**

* * *

"I got you, kiddo," Qrow mutters as he picks up Ruby's frail, fragile form. The world seemed still around the young girl, even the air stopped. The large grimm perched up on the side of the tower had frozen, and other than Ruby, there was nothing left but ashes. Dust. Qrow isn't sure what happened here, but he figures it isn't as important as getting Ruby to safety right away. He'd be damned if he let the last living legacy of Summer be in any danger a second more than what was necessary.

Ruby is lighter than Qrow remembers, and he can't believe that somebody so small, somebody who looked so fragile was destined to be a fearsome warrior, imbued with something like magic powers that made Qrow's head spin and left a bad taste in his mouth.

Her face is marked by freshly dried tear tracks, and Qrow absently wipes it away with his thumb. Her breathing is normal, and there were no signs of any injuries, for which he is insanely relieved.

"I got you, kiddo," he whispers, something like a solemn vow. Something like a wish. Something like a prayer.

Ruby Rose, barely 15, and the key to all of this. Very well the last hope the world had. The last trump card for the good guys.

Truly, the world was not fair.

He descends the tower carefully, with Ruby slung gingerly over his shoulder. She barely stirs, which concerns him a bit. The whole world almost waits for him. Not a chirp or a growl, not even a whistle of wind sounds as he climbs down the ruined side of Beacon tower. He doesn't see anything move.

Today, the greatest tragedy the world had ever seen was put on pause by a teenage girl. Qrow tries not to let frustration and anger overcome him, wondering what exactly had made him so unlucky that him and everybody he knew and loved were thrust into the spotlight of a war, the eye of a storm that had to earthly reason to exist in the first place.

Qrow sits down on a block of rubble, a concrete block blasted off of the tower by the large grimm. He feels more tired than he ever remembers being, but all the same, he withdraws a flare from his pack and lights it, throwing it into the empty courtyard.

He can't even begin to imagine Taiyang's reaction.

Talk about being unlucky.

The rush of the Bullhead's engines is a welcome sound. Qrow cradles Ruby's head in his arms, half expecting more Grimm to show up too. Nothing. Not a peep. Ruby had really done it.

Ozpin had called it a gift, what Summer had. What she had passed onto her daughter. A gift, a privilege granted by the Gods of old, onto individuals who were deemed strong enough, unique enough to wield the power. A fearsome warrior, feared by the creatures of darkness.

Qrow thinks it's a curse. A huge curse. Qrow thinks it's bullshit. Qrow thinks his niece deserves better than to have this unwelcome power thrust open her. That she deserves a better life than this.

But Qrow knows that she wouldn't have had it any other way. Just like her mother, Ruby would take the responsibility without question, without hesitation. How incredibly frustrating it was to have your loved ones be nothing short of heroically suicidal.

"I got you," Qrow whispers again as the Bullhead makes a quick landing. A solemn, silent promise. The same one he had made for Summer.


	27. Serenity

**Oscar and the voice in his head have a moment.**

* * *

 _You know the old saying: When you can't run, you crawl. And when you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you._

Oscar groaned into the dirt, fatigue seeping into every bone and muscle in his body. Scrapes and bruises and bumps and just _aches, everywhere_.

"Is that what this is?" Oscar asked.

 _Something like that_.

He flipped himself on his back, staring at the branches and leaves of the trees obscuring the pale blue sky above. Oscar closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The breeze passing around the woods was cool and gentle, softly whistling through the leaves as it made its way through. Oscar sighed.

 _We should get moving_.

"Just... give me a minute," Oscar shook his head, opening his eyes to the vast canopy of trees and the little striking beams of sunlight that managed to sneak its way through. If all thoughts were purged from his mind, Oscar could even find not an insignificant amount of peace in this moment. A little moment under the shade of trees. Peace and quiet.

"I never asked for this, you know," he said.

 _I know_.

"And- I'm just a kid."

 _You are more than_ just _, but yes._

Oscar stayed silent for a moment.

"But I can't stop."

 _You can stop anytime you wish, Oscar_.

"No I mean... I can't stop myself from doing this- whatever this is. This is the right thing to do, and I have to do this."

 _That's a very noble way of thinking._

"I guess."

Oscar sighed, then got up, dusting himself off. The woods around this village were relatively peaceful, and they had elected to travel through them to the next village instead of the path for discretion's sake. Not that anybody would be looking for a farmboy, knowing that he held the mind of a powerful, presumed-dead former headmaster of Beacon Academy. Still. Better safe than sorry.

 _Thank you, Oscar. I know this wasn't your choice, but I believe you are exactly the right man for the job._

He smiled. "Don't thank me too soon. I'm still on the fence about my sanity. Might get myself chucked into a loony house."

 _Don't worry. The voice in your head will vouch for your sanity._

He walked. And the two traveled closer to their destination.


	28. And Darling, Darling

**It wouldn't be a proper party if Blake weren't somewhere else entirely.**

* * *

It's a party. At the beach. It's a beach party. Or something. Somewhere along those lines at least. The night sky overhead is full of stars, all twinkling and brights and beautiful. Blake thought they were incomparable, those night sky stars. She'd been enamoured with them for as long as she could remember. It was a big old galaxy, and Blake was a speck marveling at it all. The bonfire they'd lit was burning nicely, the warmth emanating all the way towards the shoreline. Blake sits on a towel, a bottle of beer half-buried in the sand next to her. She stretches out and lounges, resting her elbows beside her to get more comfortable in her star-gazing activity.

It's a beach party, or so someone forgot to mention to Blake. She basks a little bit.

Everyone else is huddled up around the fire, poking at it with sticks, or making s'mores and telling stories. It was that kind of night, after all. S'mores and scary stories kind of night. It's a beach party.

Yang finds her (not that she's hiding or anything), because they seem to draw to each other like magnets. That was an incredibly simplistic analogy, but it was as straightforward as that. Yang sought out Blake in the easiest ways, whether or not Blake wanted it, and Blake herself seemed tuned into Yang's goings-on, finding herself phasing in and out of Yang's presence with ease and without pretense. They enjoy each other's company, and if Blake thinks much harder than that, she finds herself in complicated territories, and Yang belongs anywhere but there.

It's simple: Blake and Yang are partners. It's as simple as that for now. Blake and Yang are partners. It's a beach party. The night sky is hypnotizing.

Yang has a beer of her own and settles in beside Blake like she belongs there (she does, doesn't she?) and grunts out a "Heya," in a most casual manner. Blake's shoulders brush against Yang's thighs as she sits cross-legged and sips on her beer. Blake grabs her own beer, giving it a cursory glance to make sure no creepy crawlies made their way inside. It's cold and Yang's body radiates warmth, and Blake feels every bit of it because Yang is literally right beside her; she smells like lavender and fire.

"So, it's a party," Yang notes, looking at the raven-haired girl beside her. Blake raises her eyebrows.

"A beach party," she corrects. Yang breathes out a laugh.

"A beach party, right," she rolls her eyes and her smile is with teeth. "A party on the beach."

"Continue," Blake instructs, and Yang bites her smile back and clears her throat.

"It's a party on the beach, and you're sitting here star-gazing," Yang tells her. Blake purses her lips.

"You've got me, detective," Blake smirks. "What tipped you off?"

Yang gives Blake's head a poke. "Don't be glib."

"I'm not glib," Blake weakly defends herself. Yang laughs.

"Yes you are. It's cute. It's annoying," Yang says, and Blake can't help the smile that blooms on her face. Yang bites her lips, shaking her head. "Beach parties are supposed to be social, and stuff. You're supposed to talk to people, and sit around the campfire and make s'more and tell scary stories," she juts her chin out to the aforementioned fire, where there were people indeed talking and being social, and making s'mores and telling each other stories, though the jury was out on the degree of horror of their stories.

"Well, I'm talking to you," Blake tips her beer at Yang, who shrugs.

"Yeah," she takes a swig. "You right."

Blake lays on the blanket, then pats right beside her. Yang puts her beer down and lays beside her partner. They're right against each other, and Yang's hair forms a large messy yellow halo around her head, and her eyes are a bright purple and Blake feels something in her tug towards Yang, but she settles for smiling and living in this warmth.

"Would you like me to tell you about the stars?" Blake asks.

"Sure," Yang starts examining each mote of light in the sky, wondering if she can connect some dots, maybe she can retrace the lines that Blake had been drawing. "Though I only need to know one star," her smile is wide as it's ever been, and there's a laugh in her voice that Blake can feel coming in. Yang is biting her tongue and looking at Blake, and she sighs.

"If you say that I'm the star-"

"It's you, you're the only star in my night sky," Yang's laugh bubbles up before she can stop it. Blake rolls her eyes. Yang is an unbelievable dork. Once she stops her laughing fit she snuggles up closer to Blake.

Her hands find Blake's easily, and their fingers intertwine naturally.

"Charming, Yang," Blake tells her. Yang just hums in contentment. They spend the rest of the night looking at the stars and talking. It's a beach party, after all. Or something.


End file.
